Do I Look Like A Puma To You?
by Deepclaw
Summary: Red vs. Blue Crossover - Among at least thirty new Decepticon foes that crash to Earth one night, there are at least eight new Autobot allies fresh from their own private war to lend a hand...but not without some bickering first.
1. Chpt 1:  Meet Up

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Transformers. _

**Author's Notes**_: Okay, seriously, this time I'm going to try to keep A/N to a minimum on most chapters. For this first one, I just wanted to bring a few things up so you know what you're reading. n_n _

_This is a Red vs. Blue/Transformers crossover fic, but I'm not going to use a magical vortex or some other plot device to do it. Rather, the RvB guys and gals are Cybertronians here and a lot of stuff from RvB will be converted to Transformers 'format.' I thought this would be a fun thing to do since I think a lot of nods to the RvB series can be done in this way, no problem, and the more I start fleshing out each character's Transformer-self, the more I like it. _

_The main inspiration for the idea? Like seriously, what inspired me to cross these? I was watching RvB and had it on my mind when I saw a baby pink car and thought, "Lolz, Donut as a robot! :D" _

_Thus, this story was born. _

_Also, if they're TFs, I can use TF curses instead of human ones, which works out great for me because I really don't like using human curse words. I think them and their use in RvB and similar uses is hilarious but I don't say or write them. I know. What an awfully Good Girl thing to be hung up on, but I can't really help it. If you ever find a curse in my stories, I can guarantee you I had someone else write it. *sheepish* _

_We'll also see canon Transformers later, but because the awesomeness (despite my serious problems with the movies…and Bay…) and seriousness of the canon-TFs might counteract the boisterous intensity of the RvB characters, I'm mostly leaving them out for now and opting for intro-ing a couple human characters at a time._

_Important Paragraph here = It'll help you understand the nods to RvB events a lot if you're familiar with RvB. Otherwise, I guess this is a fic about a bunch of rather noisy, foul mouthed, nutsy Autobot soldiers who crash to Earth and the human characters who have to deal with them before they're shipped off to Diego Garcia. :3 _

_Lastly, I'm still working on my other fics, just fyi. After doing like 4 updates in one week a few months ago I came to a stand still and need to get writing again so… yet another reason this story was born. _

_Well, I think that's all for now. I'd appreciate feedback a lot, especially on IC-ness. n_n _

_Enjoy!_

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…_connecting…_

…_connecting…_

..._connecting…_

Mikaela Banes watched the screen apprehensively, waiting for her long term boyfriend to answer her vidchat, but she knew it was in vain by now. If he was there, he picked up before the signal even got through. If he was off partying or doing nerdy stuff, he may as well not exist. Mikaela sighed and stopped the incomplete feed, shutting down the computer and gathering up her bags. She headed outside into the cool evening air, letting her hair down while her blue jeans brushed the moist ground. Spring was coming and the weather was fair during the day, but it was still cool enough for a jacket as soon as twilight, so she sported her favorite brown down jacket and buttoned it up tight.

The motorcycle shop she and her dad worked for now wasn't very far from Sam's house, where she felt welcome and comfortable, even though his parents were a little nuts. After waving goodbye to the boss and considering her own bike for a minute, she decided she'd walk and started her trek towards the residential neighborhoods that slept quietly only about a half mile away.

It was just after eight and the sun was going down, the dying light casting long shadows and black shapes across the streets. She didn't mind, though, and walked at an easy pace, taking care to keep an eye out for danger but otherwise just content to space out a bit. Judy wouldn't expect her til late, since she usually got caught up in painting or repairing the bikes at the shop and ended up getting off work at about eleven. The older woman had even made midnight dinner for her a couple times and ate with her even though she was obviously very tired. Mikaela smiled nostalgically and adjusted her purse.

She was just turning onto Sam's street when a car slowed and pulled onto the street as well. Instead of speeding up and passing her it slowed further and Mikaela's heart thumped into her throat, fear shooting up her spine and her kidneys already shooting adrenaline into her bloodstream. It could be a Decepticon…or it could be robbers…or kidnappers…

If there was anything that pumped Mikaela for a fight, however, it was fear and as the car came closer, her eyebrows knit together and she stopped walking. Like _hell_ she was being kidnapped or killed on her boyfriend's street, barely a quarter mile from his house. She steeled her nerves and squared her shoulders as the headlights inched forward to level with her and she spun to face the car, expecting anything. A million plans started flowing through her brain, most of them involving fighting except one. If the thing started to transform, she'd jump the wall behind her and –

"Mikaela?" came an accented voice as the passenger window rolled down.

Her thoughts stalled. That voice sounded familiar.

The driver reached up and switched on the car's reading lights to reveal the smiling face of one Maggie Madsen. "It _is_ you! I knew I recognized you."

"_Oh my God_…Hi," Mikaela replied in a gust of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She looked torn between 'annoyed' and 'sheepish' - annoyed because this woman should know better than to scare people at night with creeping cars and sheepish because she'd been ready to channel Bruce Lee a moment before. "You _scared_ me!" she added, not quite getting a whole smile on her face as her heart calmed.

Maggie's smile faltered and then her eyes widened in horror, "Oh my _goodness_, I'm sorry! Of all things to forget – you must have thought I was one of _Them_." At Mikaela's sheepish nod, Maggie smacked her palm to her face, embarrassed. "I'm _so _sorry, Mikaela. That's so not what I meant to do."

The younger woman shook her head, her panic dying as fast as it had risen. She was just really thankful right now it wasn't some awful pointy robot… or kidnappers or muggers. She could not forget human criminals, she reminded herself repeatedly these days. Her voice quickly adopted a pleased tone, "It's alright, no problem. It's great to see you; it's been a while. How are things going?"

Maggie's smile slid back into place as she answered pleasantly, "Yeah! It's been like a year, hasn't it? The Christmas party. Anyway, things are going pretty well. I've gotten myself fired a few times, but it's not my fault people don't listen to me when I say they're wrong." Mikaela looked concerned and the blonde waved a hand. "Don't worry, I've been rehired every time so far. Tonight, I was just passing through town here since I had business with a scientist who works in his own private lab, not too far north from Tranquility. I thought I saw you and wanted to say hi."

Banes smiled, "That sounds great. I'm working with my dad at a bike shop these days. It's pretty cool. Probably the best part is working on Custom bikes; those usually turn out really good. Otherwise, I'm taking some online college courses while Sam's schooling on the East Coast. We study together sometimes and I stay at his house a lot these days cuz his folks are closer to my work than my house, so…"

"Aww, that sounds lovely. His parents are such charmers. A little off the deep end, but not much different from _some_ people I work with." She remembered the Christmas party clearly, particularly when Judy, Ronald, and her coworker Glenn had flipped out over a massive yellow bulldozer that had passed by on the street just outside the family's rented party villa. They'd invited everyone and their families (and the Autobots) to celebrate the time of giving in the privacy of a large cottage down south where it was still warm and everyone had been chatting happily on the porch. The Autobots were in robot mode, but had transformed as the Caterpillar rumbled up the dirt road on its way to a work site. Sam's mother had gone crazy, grabbing a bat and deciding she needed something better, Ron had run inside after her yelling that Lennox already had a shotgun and reminding her of the Autobots presence downstairs, Sam went in to try to calm everyone down but got dragged in too, and poor Glenn, who'd eaten enough sweets to account for everyone, had flown into a panic over the noise and the word 'Decepticons' and joined the fight with some more screaming. _Good_ times.

Mikaela laughed, "Yeah…"

The conversation tapered off after that. One woman was in her car, leaning precariously towards the passenger seat and craning her neck to meet Mikaela's eyes. The other female wasn't sure how to end the conversation or what to suggest to continue it. It was nice for them to meet up again, after everything that had happened just a few months ago in Egypt, but it was kind of awkward to continue a conversation on a street corner at nine at night with one person in an obviously uncomfortable position.

Luckily, Maggie broke the silence with a suggestion that made Mikaela's sweet tooth tingle.

"Want to get some ice cream?"

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_Chapter 2 to be loaded shortly. :3 _


	2. Chpt 2: Look Up

**Disclaimer**_: I don't own Transformers. OH YEAH. I don't own Red vs. Blue either! Forgot to put that on the previous chappie_.

**A/N: **_Huh…don't have much to say this chapter. n_n I hope Mikaela and Maggie are IC enough. It seems Mikaela's a little quiet, but between the two, I'm thinking Maggie's the bigger chatter box. _

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"Here's your change…Have a good evening!"

"Thank you very much. You too!"

Maggie passed the box to Mikaela and tossed the change into the appropriate hole in the center console. The coins clinked against the already accumulated pile of toll money and she secured two bottles of cold milk into cup holders. Pulling out of the drive-thru, she searched the streets for somewhere nice to sit and eat their delicious desserts.

Mikaela peeked into the box, noting with awe, "They smell so _gooood_…"

"I know, right? I'm excited. I'm_ glad_ the ice cream place was closed."

The brunette nodded reverently, closing the box reluctantly. "I didn't think they made them fresh at night."

"Me neither… Hm, how 'bout the park? Are there creepers in the park at this time?"

"Probably, but it's too nice not to go."

Maggie agreed and entered the park, the road twisting gently to follow the contours of the hill it was set in. She came to a stop at a spot near some tables that overlooked a lake and a part of the city. She cut the engine. It wasn't the New York skyline or anything particularly breathtaking, but it was quaint and colorful. The lights reflected on the water and the moon shone brightly above, unhindered by the wispy clouds that littered the stars. The wooden bench was still damp from a light rain earlier in the day, but it didn't bother either of them as they set the box of goodies down and twisted their milks open. Easing into friendly chatter with more confidence than they had a half hour ago, they caught each other up on the last year or so.

Six pastries later, they were analyzing the events in Egypt, Maggie asking questions on events she wanted more details on and Mikaela answering with thoughtful earnesty, when something caught the younger woman's eye. She knew what it was before it even registered that she should turn her head to look up.

A meteor.

"Maggie, oh my God, it's another one!" she exclaimed sharply, patting the blonde's shoulder in alarm.

"That's what it looks like when they fly in?" came the shocked reply.

They watched in silence as the fiery ball they both knew to be an alien in disguise streaked towards the Earth's surface and land somewhere over a hill. Maggie immediately began doing mental calculations, estimating its size and determining its distance from them. "I think I know where it landed. Or…an estimate."

Mikaela stood, reaching for her cell phone. "We have to get there first, just in case it's Autobot. We can take it back to Sam's house or the Look Out and then get it to Optimus and the others. If we can find it."

She knew the routine. A new bot landed, brand new to the planet and ready to get regrouped with the Autobots, who took on a disguise, contacted his (or sometimes her) superiors, and then determined a good spot to lay low for a while. But not everything always went smoothly. Sometimes a new bot crashed without a com system, or their ability to take on a disguise was hampered, or Decepticons leaped in from no where, or what they thought to be a harmless spot to hide out in turned out to be a really bad location. All of these things had happened before. If they could at least find the crash site, they could report it and then the Autobots would know exactly where to start looking. If they could find the bot, one way or another, they could lead them to a good rendezvous point away from the public eye and any prying humans.

"And if it's Decepticon?" Maggie asked, already packing up the box and grabbing her milk. She wasn't asking because she was scared, she was asking because she wanted to know the plan. They were both on the same wavelength.

"If it's Decepticon, we'll either know long before we get there, or it'll be gone when we find the crashsite." Mikaela quickly texted Optimus Prime their situation, feeling a little disrespectful in that she wasn't calling the guy…or speaking to him in person, as some part of her thought one should. She shook it off and read the answering text that had pinged her phone only a moment after she'd sent her message. Her eyebrows rose.

_At least twenty Cybertronians are headed in for a landing this evening. Four have landed already. Should there be any sign of Decepticon presence, find safety away from cameras or traffic._

There was a surprised pause as she finished the text. "_At least _twenty? And I was sure he'd say more than that…"

Maggie stared expectantly for another moment, fully anticipating a warning to stay away or something, and then…

_I do not wish to ask this of you unassisted and unprotected, but if you could scout the location of our comrade I'd be eternally grateful, Mikaela. I'm afraid our numbers are too stretched at this time._

The overwhelmed and slightly helpless tone in the words could almost be heard and this only helped solidify the womens' willingness to help.

"They have their hands full, and that's _got _to be an understatement," Maggie noted, ready to spring into action. "No _wonder_ he's asking for help."

The blue eyed teen nodded once, no longer hesitating, "Yeah, come on, let's go!"

Both women hurried to the car and strapped themselves inside, neither with any qualms about what they were about to do. They had a simple, straightforward plan they were sticking to that they outlined on the way out of the park – they get there, they scope the place out, and should there be no one there (as was expected, the bot might scan an alt mode and go into hiding immediately) they'd hold their position until someone came to find the new bot. That was assuming it was an Autobot, which they both hoped dearly.

Mikaela texted Optimus again, just to ask if they could be sure, but he said there wasn't a way for him to know at this time. The delay between when she sent the message and when he replied spoke volumes - he was obviously really busy - and her mouth settled into a worried frown. Curious if this was reaching the news, she turned on the radio while Maggie pealed out onto a nearly empty street and listened as, sure enough, the weather reports were live across the air. Every station said the same thing – lots of big meteors, world wide planetfall, sudden, no warning, watch your heads.

"Look," Maggie hissed, pointing with a painted nail to the horizon. Streaking along the night sky were two more meteors, tiny and bright against the night sky. "They're _way_ too far away for us to get to or find right now; probably something like ten to twenty miles, at least, depending on how high this hill is…They're on their own for now…"

As the road inclined and they sped left to start around the hill, Mikaela spotted a flat bed truck sitting unattended in a cracked old parking lot and pointed it out. "If it's injured, I can hotwire a truck. We'd just need a tarp or something to hide him."

Maggie nodded eagerly, "I have one in the trunk. It's kind of small but it'll be _something_."

Three minutes later the pair cruised to a halt just to the side of the road and gazed into the depths of the forest-covered slope for a moment. The crash site was somewhere in the trees. Listening, they heard no sirens, and glancing about revealed no one on the road. For now, anyway.

Maggie was the first to slide out of the car and she ran around to the other side, quickly opening the back door. "Here," she said, holding out a hand.

Mikaela handed her the brightly colored box of pastries and shut her door. In one hand was a large flashlight she found in the glove compartment. With her other hand free, she reached for her keys and switched on the tiny LED light she kept attached to it. The forest lit up before her. It wasn't until she was here, facing the darkness of the trees, that she felt the first tingling of fear. '…_And if it's Decepticon?'_ had been the computer expert's first question. It echoed in her mind a few times. If it was Decepticon, they were pretty much dead.

A car door slammed, causing her to start.

"I grabbed a fire extinguisher," she lifted a large unmistakable red canister. "And I put the donuts in the back seat."

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_Chapter 3 might be uploaded tonight as well..._**  
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	3. Chpt 3: Sneak Up

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own RvB or Transformers. D:_

**A/N:**_ :3 Okay, here we go. Now we're starting to get to the interesting stuffs._

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The forest was darker than either woman had anticipated. The darkness soaked up the light like a sponge did water, and they were left watching their feet more than their path. The only thing that told them they were headed in the right direction was the smell of burning wood and they trekked onward, up the hill, following their noses.

They were both quiet, or as quiet as they could be, listening for any movement and half expecting red optics to materialize out of nowhere. For one of the girls, small skittery 'Cons, a strange unique signal, and massive silver frozen statues coming to life still haunted her dreams. The other still had nightmares about hundreds of red optics and sharp claws trying to kill her, massive explosions, a massive black cat thing, and the death of her boyfriend. In other words, the fact they were in the woods at this time of night heading towards an uncertain fate was pretty remarkable, their recent history considered. Mikaela mentally patted her back in self-comfort and thanked God for having someone with her. Maggie was doing the same thing.

"The smell's getting stronger," Maggie whispered, her hand on Mikaela's back to steady the girl as she stepped up onto a ledge. The fire extinguisher was still in hand, clutched with nervous fingers.

Still, the pressed on, and a few minutes later they caught sight of some branches hanging, freshly broken and sizzling. The fire was going out but there was a lot of smoke and some popping sounds. It was only now that they started hearing sirens, very faintly, and Maggie checked her watch.

"How long have we been out here?" the brunette inquired.

"Only five - ten minutes."

"We might have like another fifteen before they get here. They're pretty far."

The pair picked up the pace as best they could in the dark, following a trail of burning leaves and branches that got more dramatic in their arrangements and exothermic states the further they walked.

Finally, they reached a scorched clearing in the woods, a telltale crater at the center that was still hot.

"It's empty," Mikaela noted, her eyes scanning the area for any missing limbs or broken metal. "…I think it landed safely. It's probably in hiding by now."

"Right. Well, let's get back to the car and into hiding ourselves until the Autobots give us further direction. If anyone sees us they might ask ques - "

"_Hello_?"

The two human females screamed shortly before clasping their hands over their mouths. They stood frozen for a few moments, eyes and ears straining to see into the dark.

"Uh…hi?" the male voice called again.

There was a shift in the trees, a short thump in the ground as something large took a step, and suddenly big blue lights were glowing only a few yards away. The large head they were attached to tilted curiously. "_You_ know the Autobots? I thought we were a secret!"

The girls slowly dropped their hands, staring in awe before the incoming sirens snapped them out of it. Seeing these guys up close was always a momentous occasion.

"H-hi…" Mikaela started before shaking her head and toughening up. She explained urgently, "Listen, you _are_. There are policemen on the way who are going to investigate your crash site and if they find you, it'll be a _lot _of trouble for everyone. We know the Autobots, Optimus Prime and the others. We can take you to a place you can hide out safely until it's time to meet up with them because with all the newcomers flying in they can't come get you right now. Okay?"

The big optics looked in the direction of the street, then back at the two before him. He seemed to think for a second before his chest let out a cheery whirr.

"Alright!" he answered with gusto that nearly knocked them off their feet. "I just scanned this _totally_ cool new car from a nearby sales lot and can't _wait_ to test it out! But _don't _worry, I'll be right behind you and I've been reading over the rules of the road so I think I'm good to go. Just give me the word!" He gave them an emphatic thumbs up.

Once again, they were reduced to staring for a moment, the bot's unusual exuberance processing in their minds as '_young, inexperienced, trusting, cute_.'

Maggie nodded definitively and started heading back. "Just this way. We have to hurry."

Despite her statement, she was too hesitant to just run down the hill in the dark and descended, flashlight and red canister first, very careful. Mikaela was right behind, and just behind her was … 'The New Bot.' _That was so much easier than it could have been, _she thought, her body losing its tension. Now they just needed to evade the sirens.

They reached the road in five minutes and the girls discreetly ran to Maggie's car, the loud sounds of the incoming rescue teams wailing louder. As they slid into their seats, they twisted about to watch out the back windows as New Bot stepped onto the road, crouching a little bit. What they saw, despite the little light they had to see with, was kind of startling.

He was pink. Bright, happy, baby _pink_.

His gears and cables between his armor were dark grey and black and he had some black accents that looked like they turned into windows. His head was somewhat rectangular from the front, long ways, and similar to Bumblebee's in design. He had large optics (not as large as the scout's, though) and something like Optimus's face mask over where his mouth would be. His body was also similar to Bumblebee's but his legs and torso were more slender, his arms a little thicker in proportion, and the armor was arranged differently. Instead of four doorwings on his back, he had two perched near his shoulders. With an expressive pump of his arms, his transformation sequence began and parts whirled around, clicking into a new configuration. In less than five seconds an Audi LOCUS Concept, also metallic baby pink, was sitting quietly not four feet from Maggie's bumper.

The girls exchanged a blinking look, and then Maggie started up the car and accelerated onto the asphalt. New Bot was right behind them, and as they passed the flat bed truck they thankfully wouldn't need, six police cars, a fire rescue truck, and a news van passed them en route to the smoking hill.

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_Sorry about the paragraph of description. I know that's generally frowned upon in writing, but I tried to keep it pretty concise and there's nothing particularly special about the design. However, if I mentioned he was pink, I might as well describe what else they saw right? _

_Chapter 4 coming soon. n_n_


	4. Chpt 4: Donut

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own TF or RvB. _

**Author's Notes: **_This chapters twice as long as the first three. Didn't mean for it to be, but I hope you like it anyways. It is SOOOO weird to update such short chapters, btw, I'm use to updating these huge things of like 5000 to 10000 words. X_X. _

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It took twenty minutes to get to the Witwicky household, partially because of the distance covered in their little adventure and partially because of the sudden traffic as people sped off to see the meteor. They turned down side streets and back alleys Mikaela knew in the area and eventually turned calmly onto Sam's road. When they stopped outside the house, they found all the lights to be off.

"I guess they're asleep. Sometimes, Judy stays up or they're both watching the news when I get off work," Mikaela explained quietly.

After checking the streets to be sure they were clear of witnesses, the girls stepped out of the car and Mikaela trotted to the garage to lift the door.

They weren't outside for five seconds before New Bot spoke up. He kept his voice subdued, but he still seemed loud in the night. A dog started barking down the street.

"Is this the place?" he asked curiously. "Am I going in the garage? That's how you say garage, right? Garage? I like this place, it seems nice and peaceful. And pretty. Wow, look at all those flowers! Someone knows how to decorate! I can't wait to see them in the sun. I've never seen flowers before.. _Ooh_! Water! I've never seen water before either! Huh? Why are you waving your servos around – uh, I mean your hands? What does 'shhh' mean?"

Some desperately whispered warnings later the bot finally backed into the outer room that was usually occupied by Bumblebee. Since the Fallen's attack the yellow scout had gone to protect Sam while the boy studied, leaving the house behind. The young man's parents occasionally got a guardian of their own to stay with them when Decepticon activity picked up, but right now they were on their own. Normally, this made the couple currently sleeping nervous, but right now it was perfect.

The duo shut the door of the garage with some wary glances up and down the street before settling into the warm interior. The place smelled like most garages do; something like oil, cat litter, metal, and paint mixed together. It was kind of shoddy, but it was obviously well used. In the corner was a vast array of gardening supplies and concrete slabs. Everything was cluttered together, but preserved meticulously and very clean. Perhaps, then, the pristine pale colored designer car wasn't quite as out of place as he could have been. Eventually, Mikaela found a good spot on a nearby workbench to sit and, after clearing away some empty flowerpots, Maggie joined her, setting the bright box behind them. The box held one last donut by now.

"So…" New Bot intoned, trailing off invitingly.

The door just next to the girls opened.

"Mikaela?" Mrs. Witwicky's sleepily bewildered voice called out. The older woman stepped out and sized them up through squinted eyes and a frown. She wore a long white nighty, a pale blue robe, and Mickey Mouse slippers. She carried a bat in one hand. "What are you doin' in the garage? I thought someone broke in. Who's _that_? Is that Maggie?"

Maggie waved, "Hi, Mrs. Witwicky."

Judy placed her hands on her hips and blinked her eyes clear. She had obviously been very deep asleep when she'd shot out of bed ready to kill. "Well, gosh, could someone call me before invitin' people over to sneak into the house in the dead of night? Hello, dear."

A brunette and a blonde exchanged an embarrassed glance.

"Well? What's goin' on? Why are you sittin' in the dark eatin' donuts in the garage?"

Maggie spoke up while Mikaela lifted her hands in a placating gesture. "Ah, I'm sorry to have woken you up but there've been some _major _events going on this evening. This here is a new Autobot. He _just_ landed and Mikaela and I found him. We were hoping he could stay here until the others can pick him up?"

Judy blinked at the sudden rush of words to her tired mind. She reached behind her and switched on the light, blinking again when she finally saw the new car.

"_Hi!" _New Bot exclaimed.

The red headed woman's slightly grumpy expression softened after a minute of processing and she smiled, even if her eyes still felt poofy. She sighed and shook her head, though she still sounded slightly annoyed, "Hello there, I'm Judy Witwicky. You're more than welcome to stay here however long you need to as long as you stay quiet, don't transform in public, don't step in the flowers, don't bother my dog, and don't shoot at my house." It was standard around here to lay down the most important rules straight up for new bots or else they walked all over the yard or repeated the same mistakes other bots had made before them. She wouldn't have that.

"Yes, ma'am!" The Audi seemed to salute using his voice alone. "Although, I dunno why anyone would want to ruin your flowers. Or shoot at your house. It's too nice to do that!"

"Why, thank you," Judy replied. She paused. "Now, what shall I call you?"

New Bot sounded sheepish, "Oh, sorry. How rude of me! Actually, I don't have an English name yet. My Cybertronian one doesn't translate too well, so I've been trying to think of a good one for Earth. I don't like any of the ones I'm coming up with, though. They all sound so _harsh!"_

The women nodded understandingly.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Mrs. Witwicky assured him. She looked back to the two girls sitting on the work bench. "I think I'll put on a cup of coffee to wake us up a bit. I'd like to hear about these 'events' you mentioned."

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Apparently, Judy and Ronald Witwicky had gone to bed about an hour before the first meteors started hitting the planet. Always keeping tabs on world events and always quick to take a stance on those matters, they would have been some of the first to see the broadcasts on the shower of aliens had they stayed up. Twenty minutes after coffee was made, however, both wife and husband were wide awake in the garage watching the news on the living room TV with everyone else.

"Brand new HDTV in the garage…" Ronald had hmphed as he'd maneuvered the expensive electronic onto the previously occupied bench. "And now it's getting paint and garden dirt all over it…"

"Oh, quit your griping and turn it on already," Judy had waved as she settled four slightly dusty stools to face the screen. "Looks like spring cleaning's gonna take place early this year…" she'd added in a mumble.

Now, they sat entranced as the scenes started to replay, interviews and sightings that had been on before repeating themselves to fill in new viewers. The channels were switched back and forth, looking for anything new but it was generally the same every one. They eventually settled on switching between CNN and Fox before the black box suddenly lost signal, going snowy. All five of the garage's occupants were quiet while Judy lightly hit the side of the television and Ron checked that nothing had been unplugged.

"Did you, uh, call their leader? Optimus Prime?" Ron questioned from inside the house, breaking the silence. "Or something?"

Mikaela nodded before speaking up, since he couldn't see her, "Yeah, on the way here but he just answered a few minutes ago. He said it was good we found him, but to remain alert and keep my phone charged and available."

"That doesn't sound good," Maggie noted ominously, her chin resting on a hand.

The other girl nodded grimly, "The news said at least forty meteors. There might be more. One of them is sitting with us…Optimus's message sounded like… like to be on standby, in case he needs us to do something. I don't know what's going on but I'm definitely worried."

Judy turned to them, her eyes going wide. Then her face settled from horror to determination.

"I'll be right back," she said shortly and she reentered her house. The two young women found themselves concerned but soon the New Bot decided to speak.

"Uh oh…" the pink car monotoned dreadfully. He'd gone very quiet just after the television had turned on, enough so that even though they knew perfectly well he was there, he'd been somewhat forgotten in light of current events. Suddenly, he came back to life. "My team and I were surprised to find so much activity around while we were headed in. My commander said to open all frequencies to see if there was any chatter, but we didn't get anything, so he had us turn it off since we couldn't be sure if they were friendly or not. None of those other guys bothered to send any comms either. It was like they were ignoring us, and it put my superior on edge."

"Wait, so you have team?" Maggie attempted to clarify, skipping over the '_How much have you known since we found you and you didn't tell us_?' part. "And you have no idea who the other bots were that you were flying in with?"

"Yes, and that's right. There are only four of us."

Maggie almost asked if he new if his team was still alive when the implication hit her. She looked to Mikaela and they both looked at Ron, who had stepped back outside just in time to hear their conversation.

"There are only four of you," he said slowly, "but there were at least forty other guys you _don't_ know and who were totally quiet when you were entering Earth's atmosphere all at the same time." It wasn't a question.

"Um, yeah…Would this be a bad time to mention that the satellites have suddenly stopped communicating with Earth's surface? Worldwide?"

Silence.

"…and that my superior wants to regroup with the team as soon as possible?"

More silence.

"…and that it looks like the majority of those guys were Decepticon according to an update over Autobot frequencies I got a couple cycles – uh, minutes - ago?"

Staring.

"…yeah…I should have said something a little earlier, huh?"

Judy stumbled out of the doorway with two big backpacks in her hands. She was wearing jeans, a blue button up shirt, and her hair was tied back. On her feet were the best sneakers she had and squeezed under her arms were a pair of men's shoes and a full set of clothes.

"Ron, get outta those PJs and put these on," she ordered, setting down the backpacks and shoving the clothes into her husband's arms. "Change right there in the kitchen, don't go far. We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Ron gaped, but two younger voices had chorused with him.

"Yes, we're leaving. We're all leaving. We're gonna _disappear_ into the night until this all blows over," she explained sharply, waving her hands about. She picked up the bags and started to head towards her own car, parked next to New Bot. She stopped. "No, not the car. You, new guy, you're going to take us somewhere safe."

"I am?"

Ronald was still having trouble catching up, his mouth working as he tried to piece together the same the same puzzle his wife had apparently already solved.

Maggie did it for him.

"You think they're coming here," she stated with comprehension in her serious eyes.

The air garage seemed stuffier all of a sudden.

"Yes. Yes, they did it once, they'll do it again. They'll take us and either kill us or kill my son. Well, they _won't_ get us." She pointed at the blonde. "Maggie, you're in danger, too. You helped crack into their code. And you, Mikaela, are with Sam, so you're potentially a target, too. And if they get Mojo or Frankie? They'll have the _whole world_ around their pinkies, I just know it!"

Ron promptly disappeared inside and shut the door, presumably to change. The two girls slid off their stools and checked over their things. Mikaela also checked her phone – no message yet. She supposed, by now, she was expecting one.

"Are we taking the car or…?" she asked, flicking her hair out of the way and looking between the family vehicle and the living one.

New Bot hesitated, "Uhh… I'm not sure I should. I mean, I've never driven anyone before. That's kinda weird and potentially unsafe for you. And you _do_ have a car…"

Judy was already shaking her head, her eyes holding a slightly paranoid glint in them. "We can't take the car, they can _track us down_. Those monsters could be anywhere. Look at how they found Sam! And _us_! They found us in _Paris_ somehow. I don't think I even told that many friends where I was vacationing, much less a Decepticon! You know how the government has all these cameras about these days? Well, there ya have it. If we leave in our car, they'll find us for sure!"

Maggie was nodding and Mikaela came to agree as well. As they looked to New Bot to hear if he had a say, Ron came back out in jeans, a red Hawaiian shirt, and sneakers. He was slightly out of breath, as if he'd changed at lightspeed. He held both of his dogs in his arms, who looked a bit confused.

"I left a message," he whispered conspiratorially, looking a little proud of his ingenuity.

"A message?" Judy quirked a brow.

"I recorded a message on our own answering machine, the landline. I said we weren't home, we went camping with friends. I don't know if it'd fool them, but if they check our phone to try to trace us, we _might_ buy ourselves a few hours time to hide. Hehehe…"

Maggie's mouth lifted into a slight smile. "That… might work. At least until they check the area for parties and such and do a search, or something. We should also turn off our cell phones."

At the tone of approval, Ron's conpsiring laugh repeated itself.

"Okay," New Bot broke in sharply. He sounded rushed suddenly. "You'll need to hurry. Get your stuff inside – I hope none of it's fragile. If I need to transform, I'll have to eject everyone and your stuff from my trunk."

"Wait, why are we hurrying?" Mr. Witwicky asked with slight dread. Judy stiffened.

"Because Optimus said so," Mikaela answered heavily, her phone's display light reflected in her eyes. "Like, _right now_," she added, stuffing the phone into her pocket.

The room flurried into movement. Judy rounded the Audi Locus whose trunk was already open. She stuffed the bags in and, at the last moment, grabbed a small spare bag of dog kibble from a nearby shelf and shoved it in too.

Maggie slid into the back seat, her cell phone in her hand as she turned it off. Ron threw himself into the passenger seat. He was rifling through his wallet, and balancing Mojo on a knee. The dog did him a favor and jumped into the backseat onto Maggie, who was sitting just behind him.

Judy climbed in back as well, leaning towards the front to take Frankie from Ron's arms. He'd grown quite a bit since August, no longer puppy weight, but she managed to wrestle the pug into her lap.

Mikaela was moving the stools out from in front of the car. She placed them as naturally looking as she could along the wall in front of the TV, which was still plugged into the house through the door. It looked like she was going to be the driver.

"I, uh… don't really wanna be seen driving a, you know… 'light red' car," Ron explained when Judy asked why he wasn't heroically at the wheel instead.

Judy lightly hit his shoulder and settled back into her seat, rolling her eyes at the men in the world. "Well, so much for a knight in shining armor drivin' us to safet- "

"Knights in shining armor don't drive pink cars, Judy, they ride noble steeds. Preferably black," he cut in as she finished, throwing a look over his shoulder.

"_I'll_ be your knight in shining armor _and_ your steed!" New Bot interjected cheerfully, his voice seeming to come out from all around them. "Hey, I'm not black, but I'm a fun ride anyway!"

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose at the wording while Judy clapped, delighted, in the back.

"Perfect!" she grinned.

"Okay, New Bot, we're ready to go," Mikaela announced, getting into the front seat. She grabbed the steering wheel and pulled on the seat belt. She heard Frankie sneeze in the back.

"_New_ Bot?" the car asked incredulously. "Ohh, I didn't tell you. I chose a name now!"

The garage door lifted open automatically since Mikaela had hit the button on her way to the car. Four pairs of eyes were glued to the street and four sets of lungs held their breath, as if expecting a sharp edged giant waiting for them just outside.

"What's your name, then?" Mikaela inquired softly, afraid to be heard by alien 'ears.'

New Bot didn't seem to have any qualms about speaking loudly, however, "Oh, I looked up those things you were eating earlier before the satellites and half the internet was shut down, and was pretty impressed with the results. They're visually appealing, sweet, popular, and _best_ served hot. Just call me Donut!"

With that, he squealed out of the garage and took off down the street, the Witwicky household completely dark.

…Except when a wiry jet landed in its front yard not twenty minutes later and shoe its bright red optics into the front windows.

"_Sorry for any inconvenience, but my wife and I have gone camping with friends for a couple days. We'll be back Sunday evening. Don't call animal rescue, we took our dogs with us; they're not abandoned or anything. Except Sam's goldfish, we couldn't take a fish camping. If ya leave your name and a number at the beep, we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Or never, depending on who calls. Thanks." _

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**A/N:** _I didn't plan for the Witwickies to come along for the ride. Honestly, I didn't plan for them to go anywhere. But then I remembered the shower of enemies the Earth is experiencing right now and, well, I guess they're on the move. :3 I wanted to include a call to Sam and also Prime's exact words but I thought this was better. And I also wanted Donut to share more information he has, but I figured I'd answer that later. Also, to me it feels like Donut was sort of only half there. Like his mind was somewhere else. Well, we'll see where it was next chapter. :3 _


	5. Chpt 5: Sarge

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own TF or RvB. :sigh:_

**A/N: **_The following starts about an hour to an hour and a half before Donut and the others leave the house. So we're steppin' back in time to when everyone landed which was somewhere in that time frame. _

_Responses to reviews will be at the bottom. Thank you everyone who reviewed, faved, and story alerted! 3 _

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Sergeant. 'Sarge' for short.

That's the closest word his rank came to in this 'English' language? Ugh. He didn't like it, but he didn't hate it either. It'd suit him just fine, and at least he wouldn't have to translate his name into the choppy language.

Sarge had landed south of where his team had ended up. He was heavier than the other three and lost altitude much quicker. Two of them burned north another few clicks and were probably awaiting orders. He briefly lost contact with his rookie on the way in, the smaller bot veering off course to avoid crashing into buildings.

Something about not harming the 'cute little ants' that were slowly getting bigger. Whatever ants were.

Now, he was in some facility where a bunch of the local natives were moving equipment around and shouting to one another. It looked like they were building some kind of large, square thing that looked like it could be a storehouse, but could also be a weapon for all he knew. He didn't understand why they were building it at night, with little light, but he wasn't going to wonder on that too long. They were probably morons.

He landed in the dirt just off site and no one seemed to notice, so he took to primary mode and started sneaking about. Stealthily. Crouching behind a stack of two by fours, he wrote off a few trucks as too big, or too ugly, but eventually settled on a perfect fit. It was an International CXT, sitting just in sight for him to determine that he liked it. There was just one problem – it was blue. He'd growled to himself as he glanced about for some other vehicle and found one that was apple red with slightly orange-looking chrome parts. Scanning that and taking on the International, he transformed and rolled out of his hiding spot. Now he was just in sight of the opening that led to the wide empty streets, but he had to get there without calling attention to himself. If these were anything like Cybertronian construction bots, anyone leaving early would be called out and he'd surely be investigated or something and find he had no driver. Or someone might call the police about a stolen vehicle or something and there'd be tons of witnesses! He couldn't really afford that right now...

As he waited for an opportunity to leave, he checked over his systems. Everything seemed online and functional, including his holoform driver. But he wasn't quite sure how to use that. He'd never been very talented at using it, so he wasn't certain if he should try. Testing it, he scanned a local human and projected him into his cab. Instead of a replica of the man, though, a cross between a cockroach and a mouse sat in his front seat. _Well, scrap that idea…_

Just as he was getting ready to vamoose on off the lot anyway, a very tired, very unsteady worker came along and touched a hand to his door. Sarge resisted a shudder. He didn't realize these beings were so warm and soft. How repulsive! The thing opened his door and climbed into the driver seat, pulling out a key and sticking it in. It fit.

It occurred to Sarge then that, despite his different color, the sleep deprived man must have thought this was his work truck and climbed in. The key fit because he was a replica of the original vehicle. The chances of this happening to any given bot were incredibly low, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. He was just that lucky, he thought. His engine roared to life and the driver made to ease the big machine onto the street, attempting to wake himself up with a couple slaps to the face. Sarge obeyed, chuckling to himself at the fool as they passed the many human workers on the way. The guy had no idea what was coming.

The unknowing driver made it three blocks before the truck slowed to a stop and he was tossed out onto the dark street. His sweaty cap was thrown into his face a moment later and the truck took off on its own. The worker could have sworn he heard it laugh as it drove away. The look on the man's ugly organic face was priceless.

Sarge continued on down a few more streets driverless and turned onto a freeway. He didn't want to do it, but he'd have to connect to the humans' network to research road rules. This 'internet' thing was as alien to him as his own planets' similar system was before it fell. _More_ alien. None of it was recognizable or could be related to him enough to help him understand it. He hadn't accessed it in the last few megacycles to that he'd been in range unless absolutely necessary. Like, learning English, or choosing an accent that fit his Cybertronian drawl, or what the general consensus on the Autobots and the total of their impact was on the general public (Nada. Looked like they were working underground). He'd rather his more software-inclined subordinate handle these things for him.

Very slowly, he spelled out 'driving rules' and sent it through various search engines, accessing the first couple links he found. Something called the DMV gave the most information and he scanned it quickly. Turning on the blinky lights on his rear, he entered traffic and tried to remember that he'd get in trouble if he just shoved these little 'ants' out of his way. He was sorely tempted to do just that as they crowded around him. Someone even had the audacity to honk at him. Fragger.

He reached a good cruising speed and decided to take a few moments to comm his team. First, he called the rookie and was surprised to hear that the youngling had hit gold on intel. Listening, the sergeant learned that his rookie was staying at some human's house while he waited for things to calm down. Apparently, the humans knew Prime and were helping him hide until the Autobots could swing by to escort him back to their base. However, according to the human news stations, there were more protoforms inbound than they'd counted in space and the Autobots were apparently nervous.

Sarge frowned inwardly. He hadn't wanted to make contact with the Autobots yet, but he supposed it had only been a matter of time. They were patrolling this place, after all, and would probably track them down eventually if unknown bots were skulking around unaccounted for. He wasn't looking forward to working with the Autobots, being an old Decepticon himself, and truly expected to be ostracized completely, if not imprisoned or destroyed. Being ostracized was tolerable compared to the other options, but deadly. It meant no aid if he was injured or attacked, no provisions, no repairs. He'd seen it happen before in his old faction and he'd heard thousands of stories about how Autobots treated their prisoners. Furthermore, his team would be broken. Two of them were Autobots and would probably be spared if the Prime thought they'd been reprogrammed or processor-washed into working with two of the enemy. He and his fellow 'Con would probably be left for dead.

Well, it was too late to turn back now, and he certainly couldn't go back to the Decepticons. Especially so soon after Megatron and the Fallen's defeat at that 'Egypt' place. They were busy, they were pumped, they were ruthless. They'd kill him on sight if anyone recognized him as a traitor or deserter or something. Not that turning was his fault…or choice, he thought angrily before pushing the thought away.

The young mech was still yammering away when Sarge received a faction wide signal from the Decepticon communications officer Soundwave on the very private, heavily coded frequency every true Decepticon had. He hadn't heard it crackle in quite a while and it took a moment to realize what it was.

It was an announcement for all Decepticons planetside to begin their attack, starting with distribution to key places across the globe and the kidnapping of important key humans in the Autobots' campaign against Megatron. Anyone affiliated with the Autobots were to be destroyed, unless it was one of several humans on a short list the Decepticon were supposed to capture. After the announcement, Soundwave would cut off access to the planet's satellite system and cripple a good chunk of their internet. This would scramble their enemy and throw the humans into chaos. The bulletin ended and while the red mech didn't see much of a difference in the surrounding buildings, he knew Soundwave would make good on his word. Satellites were off. Humans were pretty much in the dark.

Sarge's engine emitted a long, moaning sound, as if it was sighing. Quickly, he relayed this new information to the rookie, as well as his other two teammates and made sure the young one wouldn't tell his Autobot pets that he'd received the information from a Decepticon. They may not take kindly to that.

Wait, what did he just say?

"_Donut? What the slag is a donut?" _

"_Well, it's a small sweet food the humans eat. I chose the name cuz one of the ones the humans were eating was colored just like me and they're reputed to be sweet just like me, and warm just like me, and delicious - "_

"_Yeah, nevermind. Listen, I need you to rendezvous with the rest of us at your teammates' location. They'll be waitin' for ya and I'll meet you all there as well."_

"_Can do, Sarge!"_

"_Do you know if anything's happenin' with the Autobots? Anything over your private frequencies?"_

"_Umm…no, not yet. The humans seem really nervous all of a sudden. One of them, Mrs. Witwicky, is getting ready to leave. She seems convinced that she and her family's in danger and…she wants me to take them somewhere?…I think they've dealt with Decepticons before, sir. Like personally! …Judy just said she was found in Paris by – She says the Decepticons wanted her son…Hold on, sir, they're serious about me driving them somewhere instead of just using the car right next to me…"_

There was a brief pause during which Sarge was able to recall the list. He cursed.

"_Judy Witwicky, mother of Samuel Witwicky. Donut, listen. The family you're stayin' with is on the Wanted list. Who else is there?"_

"_Uh, a Ron Witwicky, a Maggie, and a Mikaela, sir!"_

"_Primus'_ lugnuts_! Donut. The Decepticons are on their way and might be there already. Get those humans out of there ASAP and meet me at the given coordinates. Should you be attacked, do not engage. Avoid security cameras, news cameras, anything that can be run through satellites – we got an evil eye in the sky and he's watchin' for ya."_

Donut's attitude shifted. He had a mission and he wouldn't fail!

"_On it, Sarge! They're safe with me! Donut, out!" _

He had to hand it to the rookie. He worked hard at being a soldier, generally knew his bounds, did his part, and knew proper respect in the ranks, even if he was from a different faction. He even had a bloodthirsty streak that showed itself from time to time. It made the old 'Con so proud! Sure, sometimes he could be annoying but luckily, that wasn't all that often.

Sarge spotted his exit and switched lanes to head down the ramp. He still had a few miles to travel, but was moving at a decent clip and would make it within the hour. With a quick radio to his two idle subordinates of his ETA, he turned onto an even emptier highway than the last and hauled aft.

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_A/N: Lots of introspective stuff here I hadn't quite meant to cover, but it's what flowed from my hand and I like it. I was a bit bothered by Donut's somewhat distractedness from the previous chapter. It seemed like he'd pop in more than he did. Well, now we know what he was doing – yapping to Sarge a long winded report, probably with a theme song and some tangents on the side. _

_Question: Is the title okay? It's based on the last line of the RvB theme song, but I dunno if it makes sense and it might be too longwinded or awkward sounding. Whatcha think?_

_Now for Review responses!_

_Fiera Sabre – No prob on the early morning rant. I do that too sometimes. It's 4:09AM here though when I upload this, lol. Thank you for your comment on Donut. :D I'm glad the line was catchy. Donut says slightly off things sometimes that can really easily be twisted around and I hope to include a few of those every now and then. I'm taking great care with the characterization as well and I thank you for feeling I'm doing well! As for how often I update, it's something like this, pretty often, until I run out of steam, at which time I switch back to another story, or stop writing for a bit. I hope that posting shorter chapters will help me continue updating fairly often though. I can't wait to include more RvBness in here! xD_

_Paradiseeker – Thank you! And I love that line so much! Yes, poor goldfish. I hope it does okay! It really shouldn't be in that tiny bowl in the first place, so I can only imagine how it'll do in the long term. X_X_

_Shadir – Thank you very much! :3_

_Carebear1 – Oh, yes. Caboose. He's certainly an odd one. I hope I do him justice when he comes along eventually. I won't forget about Church's sniper rifle. I actually chose a bigger alt mode for him than I had originally in order to help make the sniper rifle just that much bigger and more powerful. That doesn't mean he'll wield it like a pro, although, I do plan on making them a bit more competent in battle since they're giant robots and all after lots of war and stuff. Overall, I LOVE Church, he grew on me immensely by about season 3 and by season 5 I was in love. xD I want to do him, and everyone, justice. I can't wait to write him, but in the meantime I have other favorite characters to include first. :3_

_Thanks everyone! And I hope you enjoy this update. Next one is half finished. n_n_


	6. Chpt 6: Why Are We Here?

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Transformers or RvB. That's Hasbro and Roosterteeth._

**A/N: **_My comments on this chapter are long and would give away spoilers, so I put them at the bottom this time too. :D As well as review responses. _

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"We've been discussing this on and off for nearly _two_ megacycles now. _Why_ can't you change it?"

"Cuz no other word _fits _better!"

"Of course other words fit better! There are a _lot _of words in the English dictionary, but you just _had_ to choose the one that makes you sound tougher than you really are… If you can even be considered tough _at all_."

"I can be tough. Just cuz I don't show it often doesn't mean I'm not tough. And you know I'm an agile driver, so 'wheel' sounds perfect to me. I just need another word to describe it and I chose that one and I think it fits."

"There's no problem with the word 'wheel,' it's 'gruff' that's going to give other bots the wrong idea. That's misleading. Your name is supposed to be an accurate representation of yourself, your abilities, or both. _That's _a Cybertronian name. Not a _lie._"

"I don't see how it's a _lie_. Gruff means 'harsh' and 'harsh' means 'mean', and I'm a mean driver when I need to be. So, it's not a lie. Besides, I like it and that's enough of a representation of myself to make it a valid name."

"'Harsh' means 'mean' as in mean-hurtful, not _mean-skillful. _I think 'Lazywheel' is a more appropriate approximation of your Cybertronian name - "

"Pft. Of course, you'd say that."

" – and it lacks any tough connotation. It fits perfectly."

"Stop saying I'm not tough. You don't know that."

"Okay, _Gruffwheel_, do you recall the two times we were jumped by Decepticons on the way here? The first time, you shot blindly into the foray even though our commander was clearly engaged in the middle of it and didn't stop when I told you to. The _second_ time, when that guy hooked a chain around your leg and almost dragged you off to certain doom, you yelled for my help and clung to rocks in a weak attempt to get away. _Sobbing_."

"I was not _sobbing_."

"Yes, you were. Your engine was rather noisily emitting a sound that sounded a lot like _sobbing_. Crybaby."

"Well, _Simhack,_ I don't remember you being so hot either when you detected that asteroid that nearly clipped us." An exaggerated, annoyingly nasally whining filled the air. "_My super enhanced logic cortex thinks we should turn around! Sir! Pleeeease, it's coming right for us! We're all gonna diiiie, sir! We - " _

"That's not what I sounded like! And that's not what I said!"

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes. It _is_."

"_NO_. It's _not_."

Two vehicles sat parked near the edge of a cliff overlooking the expansive wooded hills and a couple distant cities. The first was a Jeep Liberty 2009, orange and a little scuffed up. It had a few dings in it, and stretching across its left from the rear to the front was a large decal of a griffon in slightly darker orange. The bot wasn't particularly enthralled with the design, but he hadn't chosen to remove it either. He even placed his Autobot symbol among the creature's feathers. The other car was a metallic maroon Lincoln MKR Concept, shiny and new looking. He sported a white interior and very faint, in slightly darker maroon, intricately patterned decals on each front door, a Decepticon symbol at the center of the design. It looked like a company vehicle, or some rich guy's private school's vehicle, like a chauffer should be in the driver seat.

"Okay, fine," the orange one conceded. "That wasn't accurate. But it was_ pretty_ slaggin' close."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Also, I'm keeping the name 'Gruffwheel.' Tough."

"Ugh. _Fine_."

Silence descended on the pair and they gazed across the land, watching a few meteors as they burned through the ozone layer and dropped at phenomenal speed across the Earth. The both of them had been scanning over the humans' internet earlier, entertained, disgusted, and generally interested in the many things this planet had to offer. They kept tabs on the news to collect information on the meteor shower. The maps retrieved from satellite imagers were also very helpful, as was Mapquest to find specific areas or places and look at them remotely. The native sentient species was obviously very curious about the world around it and beyond it, and credit had to be given to them for so much information in one sitting. Granted, their technology was inferior, but for such a young race, it was remarkable.

At least until the "inter" part of "internet" gave out. Now they just had local connections and private signals to tap into. Even so, they were left with a good bit of material to keep themselves occupied until the rookie and their commander reached them.

Between the two of them, Gruffwheel could find more to like about the Earth than Simhack. The latter found the native sentient race to be crude, primitive, disorganized, lazy, and just…gross. They were soft, squishy, squelchy, and they made weird bodily sounds sometimes. And they were smelly. And that went for all other life in this place too. The former thought he was looking at things like a Decepticon instead of a true investigator or culturalist..not that he was either of those. The Jeep found humans to be likeable, if one got past their weird bodies (which, he had to agree, were pretty gross). But he recognized humans' similarities to Cybertronians and was able to extend this and his willingness to learn about a new place to its land, its animals, its atmosphere, and oceans…well, maybe not the nerdy stuff like the atmosphere, but definitely its movies, the concept of theme parks, music, and cultural icons and the extent to which all of that was covered. If there was anything the pair could agree on with 100% certainty it was human curiosity and creativity. They were certainly talented in that respect.

It also pleased Simhack immensely to have something to do on this planet.

"Thank Primus this place has relatively advanced lifeforms. The last hundred worlds with little to no life on it were boring," Simhack noted despairingly. Boring meant 'there was nothing to read, learn, program, or hack into' for him.

"Yeah, I know…Man, I'm starting to really like these humans. At least, you know, from afar," Gruffwheel agreed. "They've got all _kinds_ of good ideas! Like zombies. How physically impossible is it for zombies to exist and yet _they just keep coming up_!"

"Well, I guess in some sense they're physically possible," Simhack reasoned, briefly looking over what he'd downloaded about humans from their disgusting medical field as he spoke. He couldn't help his science-inclined instincts, though, and reluctantly found himself very interested in learning more about these small, short lived beings. "If it's the kind that become skeletons and are still walking about? Those are way more unlikely. But there are some viruses that impact humans' brains and cause them to behave differently. If a real life zombie is a human with altered behavior and slight alterations to its locomotive and digestive systems, then zombies could exist. They might even look like a normal human."

"Yeah…That's kind of scarier. Cuz what if zombies were like vampires and could easily walk amongst the living and then when he lured his prey away from the herd - BRRRAAAGGHHH! Brain sandwich." Gruffwheel sounded particularly excited about this.

"…I think you might be getting a little too involved in this." But Simhack's observation didn't sound bothered much.

"We should make a zombie plan while we wait for Sarge. In case, you know, the Decepticons get an idea."

"Yeah – wait, maybe later. Donut's here."

Indeed the smaller car was just rounding a hill, his pink color a sharp contrast to the dark, night shaded green of the forest around him. He soon reached his teammates, pulling up to his own spot on the cliff, effectively interrupting the ongoing conversation with his own brightly delivered hello.

"What's up, guys!"

"Hey, Donut."

Gruffwheel sounded mystified as he muttered to himself, "Donut..I still don't get it…"

The Audi didn't seem to hear or else he'd probably explain for the fourth time that night (Simhack had asked the same thing over the radio). Instead, he seemed to puff up with pride and his tone conveyed the same, "Well, I brought my charges everyone. They're safe and sound! Mission _complete_."

He opened his doors and a young female human stepped out, followed by an older male, an older female, and another young female. Two dogs were with the family as well who sniffed the air curiously and whined slightly.

Donut transformed and pointed to each one. "This is Ron, Judy, Maggie, Mikaela, Mojo, Frankie, and Bob!"

The humans waved with various amounts of enthusiasm while the two cars across from them stayed silent. Both were probably scanning them and other robot-ish things these guys did before politely greeting other people. The organics' heads also glanced around a bit, as if they had no idea who Bob was and he'd apparently been in the car with them this whole time.

"Where's Bob?" the Jeep asked, not seeing anything.

"Oh…he flew away already. He was a ladybug that ended up inside me for some reason. Hee!"

"Oh…okay."

Simhack seemed to imitate the act of clearing his throat, though it didn't do anything for his naturally nasal inflection. "Well, uh, I'm Simhack and this is Gruffwheel. I guess we'll be protecting you from Decepticon kidnappers until…I don't know when… Is there any particular reason why the Autobots didn't put you all in one place and just guard you 24/7? Considering your alliance with the enemy, the Decepticons would surely have come after you eventually."

The female, Mikaela, scratched her head uncomfortably as she answered, "Most of us…kind of told them not to do that. We have our homes and families and it'd be too weird if we just up and left and no one could ever contact us because of all the security we'd be under. We've had guardians on and off, but since the last Decepticon attack, most protection has gone to Sam and important government officials."

Maggie took her turn, "Others of us weren't estimated to be targets because no one ever came after us individually or we didn't play a huge part. I, for one, haven't really been involved with the Autobots to any great degree since they landed here besides a code and a few get-togethers, but apparently I'm suddenly a threat…or a bargaining token."

Mrs. Witwicky stepped closer to her husband, who placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

"Is there any way we can contact our son?" Ron questioned seriously. He didn't seem hopeful.

"At this time, I don't think so. Any calls could be traced unless they're land lines and I don't have one," Simhack replied.

"Why don't we contact their son's guardian?" Gruffwheel wondered , addressing his maroon companion.

"Because the Autobot frequencies are heavily encrypted, they're keeping quiet anyways, and we can't comm an unknown bot without knowing his specific contact info…" The 'duh, you know that' at the end was left unsaid.

"Optimus was able to send a message to my phone after the satellites went out," Mikaela indirectly suggested, holding the device up.

"We could do that, too, but I'd need to know his phone's make, model, serial number, and several specific codes so I can beam a message directly to him and not someone else. Just like a comlink…"

The Jeep spoke up, "Besides, they don't know us. If we contacted them and said 'hey, we're here, we have your friends,' how would they know we're not Cons luring them into a trap? They'd probably like to know you're alright, but we gotta be careful with transmissions. Oh, hey, that phone is off right?"

"Yes, all our phones are," Judy nodded.

Simhack was thinking. "I'm willing to bet the Decepticons are keeping your Autobot 'friends' busy. Probably attacking them while others head out to collect you guys."

The blonde one tilted her head, "'Our Autobot 'friends'?'" The way he'd said it caught her attention. Were they not his comrades as well?

The question went unanswered, however, as a massive red truck ambled up to the group. He'd been surprisingly quiet in his approach.

"Oh, good," a gruff southern voice stated. Two words and the four humans could already tell he was the leader. "You're all here, so I don't have to wait. Let's get moving. We have to keep the humans outta sight."

"Sarge, I was thinking that aside from keeping the humans out of view, _we_ don't have to worry about being caught. The Decepticons probably didn't notice a few extra bots in their numbers, so they probably won't realize the Autobots gained new allies," Simhack reported hurriedly. "If they realize these humans are gone, they'll probably assume it was the Autobots they already know of and look for _them_ before considering a third party."

Sarge's engine huffed amiably. "Good thinking, Simhack. I was thinking along similar lines. However, I don't want us traveling in formation just in case it catches anyone's attention. We'll mix it up – I'll be up front, then Simhack, then Donut, then Gruffwheel."

"But, sir…that's our usual formation."

"No, we'll switch lanes around, be more random, you know."

Donut decided to step in, transforming back to vehicle mode. "Sarge, I could go up front and lead the way. You now, scout stuff!"

"But you have the humans!"

"Ah, no offense," Ron raised a hand slightly to get their attention. "But it's a little stuffy in there. Is there any chance my wife and I and our dogs can travel in a separate vehicle?"

Sarge paused and considered him for a moment, his sensors zooming up on the oily surface of the man's skin, the moistness of his eyes, the fleshy fleshness of his skin that shed dead cells all over the place, and the wispiness of his hair…which was made entirely of dead cells that also shed all over the place. _Ewww…_ He'd hand these disgusting greasebags over to Gruffwheel and –

"I'd just like to take this moment to remind everyone," Gruffwheel began, "that not only am I _not_ the most favoritest of this team, but I'm incompetent, lazy, and not a very good fighter. I don't think I can be trusted with such important charges."

_Dagnabbit!_ Sarge thought.

"Simhack, you're in charge of these humans and their dogs," he ordered.

Simhack's engine gasped and his locks clicked audibly, "But, _Sarge_! They'll soil my interior! Slobber on my windows! Scratch my dials! …Chew on the seats!"

Donut quirked an optic ridge. "The dogs are really well behaved, though."

"I was talking about the humans!"

Sarge seemed to ignore him. "Gruffwheel, you'll bring up the rear. If any of the hundreds of Decepticons currently on the planet attack, they're sure to take out the one in back first. You'll need to be on your guard, but you get to drive slow and unhurried, they get easy pickings, and I finally get rid of a good-for-nothing soldier. It's a win-win situation all around."

"Isn't that a win-win-win situation?" Donut wondered out loud.

"Uh...If I volunteer to take the humans, will I be closer up front to…you know…bigger fighters?" Gruffwheel inquired waveringly.

"Take them! Take them!" Simhack chanted squeakily.

"I _suppose_…" Sarge reluctantly conceded.

"Then, I'll take 'em! I'll protect them with my life, and all that." The Jeep flung open his doors revealing a dark brown leather interior. He couldn't help but feel that maybe Sarge had tricked him into taking the humans anyway, but didn't really see the evidence for it. Sarge did stuff like this all the tim_e._

By now, Ron and Judy weren't very hopeful for their prolonged existence in this life and hesitated, staring at the collection of cars in front of them and eyeing the pink one next to them. The four humans shared an uncertain glance before Ron sighed and reluctantly led the way to the Jeep.

"I have a son to return to. If you get us killed, your aft is haunted," he threatened with a glare to the hood of the Liberty before taking the driver's seat. Judy quietly put the dogs in the back, as well as their backpacks, and took up the passenger seat, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Confronted with their lack of confidence, there was an awkward pause where several bots were reminded of the severity of the situation. The four orange doors closed and the last two humans cast slightly disapproving looks at the general assembly before taking their seats inside Donut. Two more doors shut and Simhack finally spoke.

"I'll bring up the rear…" he began, a bit subdued. "Um…Do we know where we're going?"

Sarge reversed, turning around as he spoke. "We're headed East. Most of the other humans on the list live on that way. I'm not sure if we can help 'em by now, but we'll be close enough to the action to get an idea of what's goin' on."

His engine sighed again with a slight moan as the team began to move through the hills.

"I can't believe I'm doin' this. I ain't no Autobot or even officially on their side…" he grumbled self-pityingly to whoever cared to listen. Not that he _cared_ if anybody listened. "We came all the way out here, landed on some alien planet, put gross little monkey things in our cabs, took on six wards, two of which aren't even human, and are now on a generalized mission to help and defend Autobots. I didn't come here to do any of this slag! I came here chasin' Blues!"

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**A/N Cont.:**

_I hope the beginning argument wasn't too long. I enjoyed writing it and they needed a far amount of spotlight like the previous chapters shone on Donut and Sarge._

_I hope you guys like their names. I got Gruff from when Caboose gets his name wrong at some point in the show. And yet he has a griffon on his side. Hm. And Simhack. I reallllly wanted to keep some resemblance to the original name, so I kept "sim" as in "simulator" and got "hack" after hours of debating what would go well with it. I still don't quite like it, but that's what it is._

_Yay, zombies! :D _

_The humans don't know half their new guardians are Con, btw. They're going to try to keep it quiet a little longer._

_Did Simmons being the other Decepticon surprise anyone? I seriously had a hard time with him and I thought of several arguments against it. Since Decepticons in Movieverse are so starkly bad guys (except Jetfire, who seemed so friendly compared to everyone else. Ugh. Seriously, does defecting or being an Autobot automatically give you a personality?) it was a very difficult decision, so I went back to the roots and had even more trouble because Bots and Cons ain't so very different. Where they're different is at the cooorrre of their being. Are they really a "good guy" or are they, at heart, corrupted or sinful in some way? Well, Simmons was originally classified Autobot, but then I remembered a few important details that eventually made him a Con, as reluctant as I was to do it. _

_Mah evidence: There were a few times in the series, mostly seasons 3 – 5 of RvB since that's where we got more consistent plot development and representation of the characters, that Simmons expressed a need for power, the desire to exercise that power over other people, a desire to kill Sarge (it was seriously hard to tell if he was joking about his upcoming assassination attempt on Sarge and he was very willing to bury Sarge after hearing Sister's proclamation that their tea's leader was dead, even though we know he's smart enough to know that Sarge was alive. Grif was the only one who believed it was a joke, but Simmons was obviously deluded.) in order to get that power, and his occasional retraction of a concern or worry about a teammate to reinstate a selfish need or something further convinced me. (Like he'll say he's worried about Sarge, but then also state that he needs Sarge for emotional support or something.) Basically, he has an ambitious drive and the occasional urges to exercise it. Most Autobots use their ambition to be better soldiers or do well or something like that. Most Cons use it…for power. Given the opportunity to advance in the ranks, he's willing to step on others to achieve better._

_Granted, Simmons displays a lot of behavior not typical to Cons, such as his concern for his superior (eh…though he's expressed the need to keep him around since he needs Sarge for his self esteem and stuff), his tolerance and sometimes big brotherness towards Donut, and his constant company with his buddy Grif. He's a worrier, very helpful, plays his part on the team, and often acts as the teams conscience. Ugghhhh….Autobot! my mind screamed. _

_And then I remembered his bloodlust. He REALLY likes the turret on the Warthog. I also remembered his loyalty to Sarge (rather, his loyalty to a superior, not so much Sarge) and how I'm supposed to tie that in here. I mean, if he's an Autobot and Sarge was a Decepticon, there might be some fundamental differences in programming (not to mention that Sarge was a sergeant in a whole separate faction, not his own, and therefore, no room for advancement) that would make it very difficult for him to look up to him as much as he does._

_That's kinda what made the decision final. :'D combined with everything else. Well, I hope my argument is sound. I also think his relationship with Grif could be more interesting in TFverse if one was a Decepticon, but that's more of an opinion thing. What do you think? _

_Review Response: _

_Carebear1 = You were right. And YAY! I'm so glad! 3 _

_Mooncrossed = It is fitting pretty well, huh? My first idea of a crossover was essentially Transformers landing on Halo, but there were a bunch of problems with that. Then I thought of the whole vortex thing, but that didn't seem to fit either. I'm liking how this is turning out with them as bots and I especially liked getting them alt modes. xD Thank you for the review and I hope I don't disappoint!_

_Boscenic = Well, I was gonna give you a vague answer to not give spoilers, but I really don't see the harm in tellin' ya. I do plan on having Sheila and Tex in here, yay! I love them. :'D They're both badaft. But I won't tell you _when_ they show up. I have plans. :3 As for Church's laser face, we'll see. :3_

_Shadir = Cool! And really? I don't recall that ever being mentioned anywhere and looking it up on the Wiki doesn't reveal that Ironhide was ever a Con. Perhaps I missed something? That would be an interesting detail to add, but in this story, Ironhide is all Autobot. n.n_

_Fiera Noble = I wonder, too! 3 Thanks! I thought that keeping too much silliness would be unreasonable for Movieverse, but I'm hoping to keep them IC, which means that Sarge will definitely show his slightly delusional side often enough in this fic. xD However, him being a bit more grounded is crucial cuz the Cons in Movieverse don't play nice at all. D: Yes, there was another Con and now you know who he is. :D And Donut has long gotten over the whole "Decepticons are my teammates" issue a while ago. Gruffwheel probably only has a problem if they ever seem to REALLY wanna leave him behind or kill him, but thus far nothing's happened like that. OVerall, the characterizations and relationships between characters here are more based on seasons 5 through 8 of RvB, sicne that's when they become way more consistent episode to episode. _

_Hey, I'm curious. I wasn't planning on bringing him in cuz I haven't thought how his story could be incorporated into TF smoothly, but I wonder if anyone would want to see Washington in this fic. I really liked him a lot, but I didn't think he'd match the others' team dynamic well enough to include him. So, it's up to you guys. I'll wait a few chapters and ask again. Maybe just think about it as ya read and tell me later._

_Thanks everyone!_


	7. Chpt 7: Distress! So in Distress!

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Transformers, nor Red vs. Blue or Halo. That's Hasbro, Rooster Teeth, and Bungie/Microsoft/XBOX/whatever respectively. I'm only borrowing the characters to play with them in an entirely fanon setting. _

**For those who don't know Red vs. Blue:** _It's a machinima series that utilizes the multiplayer function in Halo, the Xbox/PC hit. It's about two teams of low level soldiers who are trapped in a box canyon together and told to kill one another because their armies (Red and Blue) are enemies. It's a comedy and the humor is like… college humor? But not all of it is immature jokes. Mostly, for me, the hilarity comes from the characters, how everyone interacts, the wide range of names and stuff the characters call each other, and the interesting and random situations the group finds themselves in. I can't choose a fave for certain because all the main characters are likeable to me. xD I'm hoping to use all my favorites in this fic. I hope you could find a fave, too. :3 Warning: Not kid friendly. _

**For those who Do:** _Hi! …Dirtbag._

**For those who don't know RvB but are curious about it**: _Try it. Start anywhere; any episode, any season. See if you like the humor or a character makes an impression on you. Then go back and start from the beginning. I stumbled upon the Season 4 episode Hunting Time, watched it all the way to the end of the season and learned to love the characters, and then went back to watch it all from season 1. I've been hooked since and it only gets more epic in plot and scope as it goes on. :3_

**For those who don't know RvB and could care less, but you're curious what everyone's voices sound like and how they talk:** _Look up "Best of" videos on Youtube of Sarge, Simmons (Simhack), Grif (Gruffwheel), and Donut. The entire show (at least, until they introduced CGI into the mix 8D !) is mostly based on the voice-acting because no one has visible faces, so their voices are VERY important. I highly recommend you go hear how they say things, and then come back and read my fic in the right voices. Lol _

_Otherwise, like I've mentioned before, I'm trying to make the fic easy to understand for non-RvB watchers, full of nods to RvB for fans while still being a decent TF fic. _

_And now for the actual new chapter I took forever to write. I'm hoping my writing's improved since my last update but I won't hope too much…_

_**Warning**__: I bumped the rating up to M because from here on out I'm gonna go ahead and use adult language. It's a big part of RvB and normal human conversation so whatever. _

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"_Error…Error…Memory – Motor functions disabled. Mem – Memory – Memmmm – illogical use of calibration systems are not – hello?"_

Old Man Jackson was getting on in years. His body was bent and gnarly, the arches of his feet had caved years ago, and his left eye sometimes lost vision. He found himself wearing comfortable plaid flannel these days, and well worn jeans with plenty of holes (he didn't mind how the holes looked because they allowed a nice bit of breeze into the important areas). Luckily, his hands hadn't lost their steady strength yet, so carving wood into birdhouses and deer statues for the Misses wasn't a problem. That was probably the only thing he did these days, come to think of it, besides plonking his rear into a foldy chair and kickin' back for a few hours of fishing.

"Of course, the occasional _earthquake_ might _change_ a man's routine once in a while!" the elderly man groused aloud as he trekked uphill through brush and thorns in his thick soled leather boots.

Not too long ago, in the dead of night, God roundhouse kicked the Earth for some reason and in the process nearly destroyed his well-earned house and belongings. And his wife, too. Now he was out looking for the damage to placate Mrs. Jackson, who thought it would be good to know where the Almighty's Foot hit exactly.

"We should know what damage it did, Harrison," she'd said, lying in the bed next to him. "What if I took the Ford down to the store and fell into the center of the Earth because the _ground_ was cracked?"

"The ground ain't cracked, Karen," Harrison had replied, still resting on his side and buried in the blankets. Man had invented goose down blankets. He was proud of that, and he was tired. "This ain't California. We're in the middle of Iowa, for God's sake. Go back to sleep."

Of course, the Misses wasn't going let up on this, and the moment she insisted she'd go out and check for herself, the Old Man had sighed and rolled out of bed instead. It wasn't because he was worried. He was dead sure she'd be alright and between the two of them, she was the one who carried the shotgun more often. (She had better aim, too, but he wouldn't let her know that.) Rather, he refused to be shown up by a girl. Sure, he believed women had rights and were capable on their own and all that hullabaloo, but the teasing he'd get from his buddies later at hearing the wife was the one to investigate would be unbearable.

So here he was, marching through the woods in his pajamas, Coca Cola cap set firmly on his white Einsteinian hairdo, while Karen Jackson made tea and read the paper back home.

"_Compensating for gravitational pull…Error. Status: Stationary. Illogical use of calibration sys-sys-sys-_ "

"_Agggh_, would ya _quit_ your stuttering, ya ol' broad!" he yelled into the woods ahead of him. He'd been listening to the broken record voice of a woman in this direction for a good half hour. It was distilled, electronic; like one of those scary computer programs he saw in movies.

As he reached the top of a knoll and stretched his arms, he smelled smoke and looked down to see the thin mist of brush fire smoke trailing into the air. Below him was a densely wooded bit of forest with broken tree limbs everywhere. It reminded him of the battle field. Specifically, the aftermath of a grenade. He narrowed his wrinkled eyes, but could only see a vague dark shape at the center of the grove. So, after tugging at his pants and checking his shotgun, he stepped carefully down the small hill and climbed around a thick tree trunk.

There. It was still obscured by a pile of dirt and brush, but out of the trees stretched a long dirt crevice where the thing had hit the ground and skid to its current position.

"_Ho_ly shit. If I find a little boy in that meteor, I'll save Karen the effort and sign _myself_ into a loony bin."

Finding something like this was so out of his comfort zone, a small part of him really did think he just found young Superman's Kryptonian pod. Taking a risk, he stepped onto the pile of loose impact dirt and slid into the crater with the thing. The area was cool save for the small fires, but the meteor was emitting enough warmth that he was afraid to touch it. Instead, he used his shotgun to clear off some of the brush and his cap to brush off the dirt.

He whistled, "Damn, you're big. Like an _asteroid, _for sure!"

More dirt brushing revealed a metal exterior and what he thought looked like an intake. Were those treads? He quirked a brow in confusion as the thing seemed to take on a familiar shape. "Wait a sec… This ain't a - "

The massive shape shifted. It seemed to expand in slow motion as it emerged from the dirt and moved towards him. The man scrambled backwards as it lurched, but the it stopped and settled, as if it had been righting itself. Then it made a teeth grinding screech, and froze into the unmistakable form of a tank.

Old Man Jackson stared for a moment before sighing in relief and wiping his brow with the Coca Cola logo of his hat. He'd only dislodged it when he'd touched it. It must have been stuck on a rock or something. For a moment, he thought it had actually been moving on its own!

"You sure gave me a scare, young lady," he said to the tank with a growing smile. He straightened himself and took a look around the dark green hull of the metal beast before him. "Fan_tas_tic….Where did you come from? Tanks don't fly…" A search of the partially cloudy blue sky revealed no answers, but all the evidence pointed to a vary hard landing from…somewhere up there.

He rested a hand on the scuffed, dull metal case of a relatively small headlight, his smiling face mostly unperturbed. "I guess you're the one who made all the noise last night, huh? Man, I sure hope you had no pilot when ya landed…"

"_A pilot is unnecessary." _

Jackson leaped backwards, his heart nearly pounding right through his ribs and into his hands. "Dear Jesus! What the hell?"

"It seems I am no longer fall-fall-falling_. Error. Memory stor – calibration systems nonfunction - _Where am I_?"_

Old Man Jackson had seen a lot in his lifetime. And he'd seen some more on television, including talking cars and the military's latest robotic achievements. But he'd be a monkey's uncle if he ever saw a tank fall from the sky and start talking like it was all…self-aware and shit. First time for everything, eh? This was the female voice he'd been hearing echoing around the forest. He clutched his belongings to his chest, still unsure about this sci-fi beast.

"Hel-hello_?"_ the tank asked, its massive turret moving slightly to the right with a whirring sound. _"Error. Gravitational pull increasing. Orbit dec - Impact in five, four…_Wait a nano. That's not right. I am not falling."

"You….are one seriously confused piece of machinery," Jackson couldn't help but mutter.

The tank's turret trained on him again, as if looking at him. Then it made a bunch of clicks and beeps and weird alien sounds before switching through at least four other languages – Spanish, French, German... Jackson shook his head, not understanding what was going on.

"Where am I? Do you know my name?" the lady in the tank asked politely, as if nothing completely out of this world was going on.

"Ahh…Webster, Iowa. We just me- "

"_Err-Error. Leak… detected – Arterial circuitry: damaged. Neural functions: impaired. Di-diagnostics mal-malfunctioning."_

As the tank continued to list off a series of…'symptoms' that just seemed to get worse and worse (peppered with some disturbing amnesiac questions he had no idea how to answer), Jackson's stiff body relaxed slightly. Seeing as the thing was incapacitated, he scooted around the behemoth to get a better look at the damage he hadn't been able to see before. There didn't seem to be very many pieces missing, but he found a good size chunk ripped out of the back. The sides of the hole looked warped and ragged, like it had been superheated and blown inward. But it also looked a bit like a stab wound to flesh with a very jagged sword. And a quick glance inside revealed no pilot, dead or alive, like the computer had said. This combined with the apparently glitched-up systems the..."AI" was talking about added a few more clues as to how this tank got here. And with this information, he narrowed the causes of the tank's appearance to either UFOs or strange military exercises. He could think of nothing else.

The closest Fort was about an hour or two away. He'd seen the soldiers 'chuting down from planes during practice exercises and he'd caught one in his backyard in full jungle-camo once, right next to Mrs. Jackson's petunias, but he didn't know they were flinging tanks around with what was evidenced to be high powered weapons. As much fun as it sounded, this thing could have landed on his house!

"Damn kids... Who's in charge of these operations?" he grumbled with annoyance, waving a hand dismissively in what he thought was the direction of the army base.

The old man took a good look around for a few more minutes, listening to the machine's rambling. It sounded like it was repeating itself by now. He shook his head.

"I'll be back for you later, Miss," he said, patting the dented armoured skirt. He turned and made his way out of the brush and up the hill again, hoping no one else found her while he was gone. "You're not fit for duty, but you'd make a kick ass lawn ornament."

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Harrison wasn't able to return until late evening, when the forest was dark with shadows but the sky was a bright orange-purple. It made driving difficult, especially with two faulty headlights, but Jackson was determined to recover the tank. Mrs. Jackson had been against it, saying it was the military's business. But as a war veteran, the tank symbolized a lot, and if he could find a way to keep it, he'd be more than pleased. Besides, the ol' boys would be beyond jealous.

As he eased his pickup over the lacey pattern of tree roots blocking his path, his headlights touched on the crash site before giving out.

"_Aggghh_…dammit..."

Keeping a mental picture of the area ahead in mind, the old man gunned the engine and ripped over the roots onto leafy ground. The wheels spun a little bit because of the sheer amount of leaves covering the forest soil, but once it had traction, the Ford moved again. It lumbered forward slowly as Jackson tried to peer through the darkness. The headlight flickered on long enough to help him back the truck up to the tank. Once he was lined up, he grabbed his flashlight and eased himself out of the vehicle.

The forest was silent. The moment he set foot outside, the purring sound of the engine faded into the background as his ears strained to hear anything other than his own pulse. The tank had finally shut up, too. He hadn't noticed before, but the dull green vehicle had been making a low whirring sound, like the quiet whisper of an online computer. But it was only in the absence of that noise that he noticed it had been there in the first place.

Unnerved, his gut warning him to get out of there, Jackson was inclined to turn right back around and head to the house. But his mind couldn't accept that there was anything dangerous out here. Large wildlife was limited to deer and the occasional bear, neither of which were very common near a town full of huntsmen. Criminals were a possibility, but he doubted they'd be in the middle of the woods without a camp and the option was unlikely anyway. Would the Army want their damaged tank back? If they did, they would have trucks out here too, and plenty of light. With a reluctant shrug, the ivory haired man crept forward and quickly started to hook the tank up to his truck.

"Mm. I don't think tanks were meant to be towed like this…" he muttered to himself quietly. Turning towards the truck, he found himself suddenly doubting his engine power. His pickup probably weighed a couple tons, but the tank certainly weighed more, and it was partially stuck in the ground due to the fall. Suddenly faced with problems he'd been too excited to foresee, he paused in his task to think.

And that's when he heard it.

Somewhere behind him, the trees shifted and he both heard and felt it again. It was a heavy thump followed by rustling, like something very large moving in the forest. The sound came again, and again. Closer. They were unmistakably footsteps, the footsteps of a giant.

Back in his military days, he would have fallen back and hidden, scouted what it was, and reported to command. He would have thought nothing as his army-trained instincts moved his body for him, preplanned actions automatically kicked into motion should the enemy show his face. Now, Jackson was seventy two and those instincts were long buried under years of civilian life, which he'd enjoyed immensely with his lovely wife. He really had no defense against whatever it was that was that big and he had nothing to fall back on. He needed to get out of here.

As quietly as he could, he untied the little bit of tying he'd done, wrapped up the cable and hooks and put them in the truck bed. Then he turned off his flashlight and felt his way back into the driver's seat of the Ford. With surprising steadiness, he put the truck in reverse and pressed it into the foliage with as much care as he could. The engine stayed at a low purr the whole time, but Jackson was sure the creature would hear him. In moments, he had the truck parked between two massive holly bushes, the path he'd driven to get here in clear sight behind him. He cut off the engine and waited.

His imagination was submitting vision after vision of what it might be to his inner eye for review, but with discipline he didn't know he had anymore he wiped them away and peered through the windshield with focused eyes.

The first thing he saw was a large metal column emerge from the trees opposite him, near where he'd been looking over the grove earlier that day. The column, he thought, looked and moved an awful lot like a leg, and he could see gears and cables between the sheets of metal that made up the outer shell. Next he saw an arm-like thing with a hand full of wicked sharp fingers, again filled with mechanical parts. And the last thing to emerge from the darkness was the dull glow of multiple red eyes that looked more like little lights. With the time quickly approaching nine o'clock PM, the night should have been too dense for him to see, but the creature was lit up at the hips, like it had headlights attached to its pelvis. He hadn't noticed the lights before…

Holding his breath, Jackson watched as the thing, as tall as the trees and four times as wide, swung its headlights onto the grove. The tank was lit up in the spot light, every dent, scrape, and gaping hole a black shadow. Still, the tank was silent and Jackson was sure its computer or AI or whatever the hell was dead for sure. Then the giant bent down and picked the tank up by its turret, dragged it out into the open and flung it into the trees to Jackson's right.

"_Emergency!"_ the tank's feminine voice spoke up. It was a small voice now, and Jackson could barely hear it. It sounded strange, like it was losing power. "_Activating emergency be-be-be – distress signal activated. All frequencies enable-_ "

There was a flash and a bang and the tank went silent. The old man clamped a hand over his heart, which pounded mercilessly in his thin chest, but he stayed silent as the walking beast moved noisily towards the tank, picked it up where Harrison had tried to tie the cable and dragged it off into the forest.

Jackson waited until the darkness completely consumed the forest again before letting out one breath and gasping another. His steady hands were now shaking and his left eye's vision was blurry. His heart was still thrashing in his veins and although the Ford was turned off, his foot was slammed onto the gas pedal with all its strength. Never in all the days he put his life on the line for his country, in all the days he went hunting with his boys, in all the days he went herb collecting for his wife had he ever seen a thing like that. He didn't know what the Army was doing these days with all their fancy gadgets, but he was sure that that was the only explanation for what he just saw. That and aliens, and what were the chances of giant alien robots walking around on Earth throwing tanks around in the woods like rag dolls?

With surprising swiftness, Jackson keyed the engine and tore backwards through the woods, turning and speeding toward home. Wiping his well worn baseball cap across his brow in relief for the second time that day, he shook his head in disbelief.

"Karen's never gonna believe this…"

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**Overdue Review Responses: **

Mdnytryder_ – Hi! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. :) I was honestly a little confused at your reviews, but then I realized you didn't know what RvB was, which was explained in your second review. xD Sorry for the confusion! Indeed, since witing this fic, I have come up with a couple OCs based on my fave canons from RvB but in this fic they're all canon from the show. I'm glad that even though their names, specifically Donut, are really odd in the context of TF that they otherwise are fitting in enough as TFs. :D Thank you for your reviews, I appreciate your input a TON. _

Fiera Sabre_ – Thank you for your review! You like Simhack? Awesome! I remember I was really at a loss as to what to call him. I am also glad I have the whole team together now, because writing them all together is a riot. I absolutely love Red Team. The Blues…well, we'll see. :3 I imagine those who watch RvB will know who the tank is, but those who don't will just have to wait! _

Shadir_ – Exactly. I am assuming that while TF-paintjobs can be scraped, it kinda grows back, becaue in the movies, if they take on a new form, they can change paintjobs too. So, in my fic, the TFs have control over their paintjobs to some degree. Hence, Simhack and Sarge will be able to hide the most obvious painted sigils, like Simhack did in the previous chapter. However, they can't hide their bodily designs so the moment they transform, I'm sure the humans will know. But what happens then will remain to be seen. :3 And about Ironhide, I see now. Thanks!_

mooncrossed_ – lol, awesome! I thoroughly enjoy the Grif-Simmons dynamic so I look forward to writing that into my fic. I am also happy to hear that humans' actions are likeable, too. I'm trying hard to make their input engaging and important, while not making their presence overpowering. _

Vindicated Skies_ – Thank you very much! :D I hope Chapter 7 has lived up to your and others' expectations. Sure took me a while to write it. _

**Final Note: **_I have the next 4 chapters already outlined. I had hit a snag because after chapter 6 I wanted to switch to another POV, but when I decided on Ms Tank, I had no idea how to tackle the chapter. But I think this works. Since untangling this little snag, I now have a better idea of how the story goes and how who gets introduced to the story, so I hope to keep rolling with the updates. _

_Thanks to all readers, reviewers, and favers for their time and I hope to see you again soon. :3_


	8. Chpt 8: Plan to Rescue

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Transformers, nor Red vs. Blue or Halo. That's Hasbro, Rooster Teeth, and Bungie/Microsoft/XBOX/whatever respectively. I'm only borrowing the characters to play with them in an entirely fanon setting. _

**Review Responses: **_(…at the beginning of the chapter this time!)_

_Vindicated Skies__ – Woo! :D Thanks! - Oh, that line surprised me. I'm not sure where it came from but it made sense at the time. Thanks! - You're right, the tank is Sheila, but whether she keeps her name or gets a new TF one remains to be seen. I don't give away spoilers on her purpose or anything in the fic, so I'll leave it at that! :D - I am truly flattered by your compliment. To hear mine is one of the good ones makes me happy. :) I'm glad you think so!_

_Carebear1__ – I won't give spoilers away but don't worry about her. The Reds are on the job!_

_My newest fave since last chapter is from thephoenixhunter. Thank you! :D _

**A/N:** _Annnnd cut back to Red Team! If you see any discrepencies in the continuity, please tell me so I can fix them. I think this fits fine, and I reread my previous chapters through twice but if I'm forgetting something, I must fix it. n.n_

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_Distress….Distress!...Help! Idon'twantanymoredistress…Distress! Oh man, this is a lot of distress…_

"Um…Sarge? I believe… I just picked up a distress signal."

"Wow. _Really_? How_ ever _did you come to _that _conclusion?"

"Frag off, Gruffwheel."

"Astute observation, Simhack!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"Where's it coming from!" Donut jumped in.

"And who?" Sarge added.

Simhack was silent a moment. "Mm…Central Iowa. About eight hours away, all back roads accounted for. But that's just an estimate. Without access to satellite mapping, I may be missing an even shorter route. As for who…I can't tell. But they're definitely Autobot, and they've definitely suffered severe enough damage that they're broadcasting on all frequencies. The Decepticons will descend on them like…Wait…Oh."

"The signal cut off," Gruffwheel said grimly. They were miles away from whoever sent the signal, but somehow it was still so ominous.

"I think they already got there," Simhack added, voice subdued.

"Understood..." Sarge seemed to nod, although he was still in alt mode. "Hm. I have a feeling it might be one of them Blues. None of the humans on the list live down that way, so the likelihood of one of Prime's own being caught in the middle of Iowa is unlikely. So... the _only option_ is that the Blue is suffering from _so much_ pain they'll just about ask _anyone_ to _rescue_ them!"

"I notice you sound kind of happy about that," Gruffwheel observed, flicking a pigeon off his antenna.

"They're Blues. They deserve it. Hallelujah."

Donut gasped. He was under the impression that they'd be working with the other team, not leaving them to die. "But, _Sarge_ - !"

The CXT sighed, grounding himself in their current reality, and cut in. "Don't get me wrong, Donut. I realize there's a bigger picture here and they're our allies - as much as I'd rather every one of 'em rustin' in the Pit. We've a Con invasion on the Autobot's last true stronghold called Earth; Prime's forces must be scattered trying to rescue their allies; Soundwave's holding the satellites hostage with his weird tentacle things (Trust me, boys, that's one Con you don't want to run into in the dark hallways of a Con ship.), we have no access to GPS, no open channels are active, the secret channels we know of are silent, and we have four liabilities to look after."

"Isn't it six?" Gruffwheel asked, poking Mojo with a seatbelt.

"Those little varmints make six, yeah, but if a Con comes runnin' and we need to buy some time they're the first to go."

"Don't you mean _I'm_ the first one to go?" Gruffwheel asked saltily, knowing full well the kind of answer he was about to get.

"You would have already been shot and used as a shield, dead man."

"Yeah," Gruffwheel sighed. "Thought so."

"Anyway, as unfortunate as it is that we'll have to actually _assist_ our ol' 'friends', it looks like more numbers can only _aid_ us in these gloriously dark times. Sooo, for the next eight hours they'll enjoy the horrible torment and backwards hospitality the Cons will punish them with for being the dirty slagsuckers they are, and then we'll jump in and rescue 'em." The big red truck sighed nostalgically. "Ahh. Death, destruction, mayhem, and a scrapload of enemies. And a rescue mission to boot! It's a good life, men."

"It sure is, sir!"

"Kiss ass," Gruffwheel muttered in the Lincoln's direction.

"When are we leaving, Sarge?" Donut piped.

"Hm…" Sarge peered around the parking lot, catching a glimpse of the four humans inside the McDonald's across the street. To his optic, they looked closed enough to finished with their meal. "Right now. Flag 'em over, boys."

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"…baby booties, and Sam's fish! Now we're on the run and I just wish I could have grabbed more!"

Ron sat across from his wife, Maggie and Mikaela sitting next to them. After almost a whole day of traveling the group was starving and needed potty breaks, but it was only after Judy threatened to pee all over Gruffwheel's seat and launch herself out the window to pee on the Sergeant too that the rouge CXT finally allowed the convoy to pull over. It had been a rather colorful argument, with much swerving, cursing, and threatening from all parties. Now, at about eight PM on a Sunday night, they were huddled in a Mickey D's utterly exhausted.

Mr. Witwicky gently pat Judy's hand. "At least we grabbed the most important things, honey. We have birth certificates, social security numbers, IDs, school documents, uuuh - _loan_ information, adoption papers for the dogs, and everything else we need to prove we exist should the government decide to erase us from the surface of the Earth because we let our son get mixed up with aliens."

Judy pursed her lips and struck her husband with a glare before Mikaela's determined voice interjected.

"At least we have help. We have four Autobots on our side, and so far we've completely escaped detection," she said with reserve.

The entire trip so far, the cars now parked outside had kept an open channel between them so the humans could converse and hear what the bots were saying. Unfortunately, the group proved to be rather dysfunctional and the constant bickering between them eventually caused all four earthlings to beg they turn off the link. So, while Mikaela's words were supposed to be encouraging, they did hold a little salt for all of them. Still, they were much better than nothing, and way better than Cons.

"And the Sergeant…seems knowledgeable of Decepticon activity," Maggie added, the thought sounding more like a suggestion than a statement. "Like he really _knows_ what's in their heads."

"I noticed that, too," Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Should come in handy. And at least they're not all rookies, like the pink one. I'm hoping that for all the fighting between them, they make a good team. Otherwise, we're _screwed_."

Maggie nodded in agreement and took a sip of her Pepsi.

With some more hushed conversation about their predicament, they quickly finished off their burgers and started picking at their fries. But a moment into a conversation about what to do with the dogs (who could potentially get them in trouble at some point) a loud ruckus broke out in the parking lot, grabbing the patrons' attention.

"What's going on?" Judy asked in bewilderment as she startled. Looking wide eyed out the window, she caught sight of Donut, Simhack, and Sarge flashing their headlights and setting off their panic alarms.

Maggie seemed confused too, but she quickly understood. "I…I think that's our cue to leave."

The implication that there may be Cons nearby was strong enough that the four earthlings stood simultaneously and rushed to pack up the leftovers at the same speed. Blasting past the other patrons, who looked as confused as the quartet looked panicked, they made their way across the street. This time they all jumped into Gruffwheel's seats.

"Why are you _all_ in here!" the orange Jeep yelped in protest, refusing to close his door when they pulled.

"Cuz we gotta go, right? That's why ya called?" Ron replied, looking searchingly at the radio dials. It was really annoying that these things didn't have some kind of face on the inside to look at.

"Yeah, but Donut has plenty of room, too!"

Sarge spoke up over the open link, which they'd apparently opened again, as he backed out of his parking spot. "Aagh, leave 'em. It'll save us time later. Better they stick in one spot for now anyway, and Donut'll need to be free to scout."

"H_oooo_ rah!" Donut exclaimed, his small pink form zipping on ahead of the group as they pulled back into traffic.

"Wait, so what's going on?" Mikaela asked. She held Mojo in her lap and her cell phone in her hands. It wasn't on, but it was so tempting to turn it back on and find out if Sam or someone else had tried to call.

Gruffwheel began to fill them in. "We detected -"

"_I_ detected," Simhack quickly interrupted, his sleek maroon build difficult to see in the dull light of dusk. With a squint, one could tell he was in the lane to their right, with Sarge up ahead and Donut probably half a mile further up the road.

"_You_ detected? We _all _detected it! You said yourself it was on _all _frequencies!"

"Yeah. But _I'm_ the one who noticed it and reported it."

"We _all_ heard it, so reporting it wasn't necessary. You were just the _dumb _aft who went and stated the obvious."

"I just want credit where it's due. I heard it, reported it, _analyzed_ it, _and_ got us coordinates while you were sitting in the fragging parking lot _monkeying _about."

"Wha- _Monkeying about_? What in the Pit is that? Who _says_ that?"

"For Spark's sake, you two! Just answer the damn question," the gravelly tone of the CXT's voice spoke.

There was silence for a heartbeat and the four inside the Jeep exchanged a weary look.

"Okay," Gruffwheel started again, this time with a rather sardonic air. "_Simhack_ detected an extremely obvious distress signal that we all heard and then redundantly told our commander, while I listened to the signal everybody heard too and didn't say anything because I knew the Sergeant wasn't an idiot and heard it already."

Somehow, everyone could feel the glare Simhack was drilling into the Jeep's side.

"He then told us it was from an Autobot, which was also obvious."

"Autobot?" Ron and Judy said together, leaning forward.

"Who is it?" Mikaela asked, she and Maggie crammed together between the front seats.

"The genius couldn't tell us," Gruffwheel answered smarmily.

Simhack skipped retaliation, save for another glare, and answered, "I couldn't tell from the signal, but we're thinking it might be…someone _we_ know."

"There's more of you?" Mikaela asked hopefully.

"Uh…yeah. Kind of. They're in a different…'unit'," Simhack explained vaguely.

"We don't get along with them very well. Their leader's kind of a jackass," the tangerine Liberty supplied.

It wasn't the whole story, but enough of an explanation for the humans for now. They turned their attention to other questions. Where was the signal coming from? Why was it on all frequencies? Was there a way to identify them? Were the Decepticons there already?

The heavy blanket of worry that settled over the humans cast a bit of seriousness over the Cybertronians as they carefully joined traffic on Interstate 90. They stayed quiet and answered the earthlings' questions in due enough time with little sidetracking, but the questions didn't last forever and Sarge and his team only had so many answers. They'd find out more once they got to the site.

By the time the team turned southeast the earthlings had worn themselves out and dropped off to sleep, hoping to be able to lend a hand in some way when they woke up and to rescue the poor bot who'd been violently silenced.

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Mikaela scooted forward in her seat, her blue eyes glued to the scene outside her window. It was dark, four o'clock AM, and not even the stars gave enough light for the occupants of the Jeep to see anything of significance.

"Is this it?" she asked, half expecting to see more and half feeling dread for the demise of the missing Autobot. From her seat, all she could see was the empty crater the Autobot had left when it landed and some broken trees nearby. Otherwise, there was nothing to see, and no one in sight. It told nothing but that the absent bot was captured and possibly dead. "I need to get out."

"The place hasn't been cleared yet," Gruffwheel warned, sounding slightly fearful. He kept his door shut, even as she pushed. The other three bots had gone to scout the area for the enemy and/or civilians.

But Mikaela wouldn't take no for an answer. Her lips pursed, she tugged at the door handle again. "I know, but I can't sit here and do nothing. There might be clues."

The Liberty thought about it, and then opened his door cautiously. Mojo was the first out of the car, pushing past Mikaela as she slid out of her seat. Frankie was close behind. Together, the dogs sniffed the surrounding area, setting up their own perimeter. Mikaela followed them, immediately noting the potent scent of burnt leaves. At first glance, the area looked somewhat normal besides the crash site, but her eyes were drawn downward by a whine. Mojo sat near her feet, his tiny paws resting at the edge of a massive footprint as if he was pointing it out. He thankfully didn't bark.

"There," Maggie's voice said sharply.

Mikaela's face whipped around to find the blonde over near a couple large bushes. She was pointing enthusiastically.

"I think these are tire tracks. The ground's dry, but the leaves are pushed up - around…You see?" she continued.

Mikaela nodded, taking a closer look. It was dark, but the Jeep's headlights gave a enough light to see the outlines. "I can't tell what kind of tires…but it was definitely a big truck. Heavyset, meant for hauling, but not a tow truck. More like… a pickup or a big van." She sounded sure, and Maggie nodded, knowing the brunette had more knowledge than she. She gestured to the tracks and the prints. "Could this have been the Autobot?"

"A Con's been through here," Gruffwheel said suddenly, voice more worried.

When the girls turned to see what he was referring to, he was in robot mode. They hadn't heard him transform, and light was dim with him facing towards the black woods, but they managed to get a first look at the guy.

The mech was definitely taller than Bumblebee, and wider too. He was big around the chest and midsection areas, with somewhat stocky limbs. He was all orange, black, and chrome, with the griffin tattooed over his upper arms and back. He looked scuffed and dinged, like he didn't take care of his appearance much, but he wasn't dirty. Something about his back looked strange, like there were parts or cables or something that didn't match the rest of him, possibly meant for someone taller. He had no doorwings and his helm looked reminiscent of a football helmet. Overall, he kinda looked the robot equivalent to slightly overweight, but still with the build of a mech like Ironhide. The similarity to the Weapons Specialist was strong enough that it made one wonder if he had secret fighting potential, even if he was currently looking around the woods like a frightened rabbit.

"These steps?" Ron asked, pointing at the ground where his dogs were swarming around the footprints and trying to tell everyone they were there. He patted his dogs' heads and awarded them with praise before they ran off to find more things to sniff.

"Yeah…" the Jeep said, crouching slightly. "They came into the clearing from the woods over there, and then walked over here." He followed the prints to the crater. "And then they went over here…" He pointed to a series of cracked trees and messy leaves.

"Looks like something heavy landed there..." Judy observed, stepping around the prints to get a closer look. A massive boulder was cracked at the center of the disturbance. She stared for a second. "Did he _trip_?"

"Uhhh…No," Gruffwheel said, blinking in slight amusement. "I'm thinking whoever landed here was thrown into that rock, and the trees are black - the Con must have fired."

"I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case," Sarge's voice said. Turning, the group found him in alt mode, parked near the smoking grove of trees. "These prints are big enough and shaped just right to be a flyer's. Tossing around a weakened Autobot is an easy sport for the like and they're armed with special energy cannons."

"Oh, frag. A Seeker?" the Liberty asked, his voice a little squeaky. "I _hate_ Seekers."

"Nope. Looks heavier. I'm guessing a hovercraft of some kind."

"Oh." Gruffwheel sounded relieved.

"Which means bigger, with more weapons and thicker armor. And wings to boot."

The orange bot seemed to gulp. "Oh, right."

"Sarge! Sarge!"

Donut came tearing into the clearing with Simhack close behind, both in alt mode.

The maroon soldier spoke before the pink one could continue. "Sarge! We know where the Autobot is!"

"What?" Judy gasped, exchanging a hopeful glance with Ron.

"Where?" Mikaela asked, walking forward briskly. The others joined her, and the group made a semicircle around the cars.

Donut transformed, pointing where he'd just been. "Just on the other hill! It's a really secluded area, with a barn, some kind of farming equipment I don't know the names of, and a _huge_ artificial _cave!"_

"They weren't exactly discreet about hiding their base," Simhack said disapprovingly. "I also picked up a weak life signal from inside, as well as what looked like a mech fluid trail, but I couldn't get a clear reading. Sarge, I really don't think these guys are suspecting attack. They probably reasoned the same thing we did about the Autobots not being anywhere near Iowa. But there's only _one_ entrance, so we'll have to go in through the front door. There's no way to sneak in."

"_That's_ not true!" Donut piped, positively glowing. "I found a secret entrance, Sarge!"

"What?" Simhack squeaked. He didn't know about this!

"You _did_?" Sarge asked eagerly. But he swiftly turned doubtful. He'd long ago learned not to trust the sparkling's observations point blank. "Are you sure it's not just a badger hole, son?"

"I'm sure! We saw a small car, a Honda, go into the _big_ cave, and then _I_ saw it come out of a _smaller_ cave shortly after! It's maybe a mile away from the main entrance."

"I didn't see this!" Simhack protested loudly.

"_I_ did! It's concealed by a curtain of vines, like the secret path to Rapunzel's tower in that one Disney movie! _Very_ clever," Donut explained excitedly, looking ready for action.

Sarge had no idea what movie he was talking about, or when he had the time to watch it, but the truck was pleased nonetheless. "Excellent work, Donut! The work of a _true _scout!" he praised.

"_Thanks_, Sarge! :D"

Gruffwheel snickered. "Hehe. One upped by the rookie, Simhack? How _shame_ful."

"Oh, _shut up_, Gruffwheel. He's _made_ to scout. But ask him to calculate the trajectory of a comet knocked out of orbit that's travelling a quarter of the speed of light across the universe from the Solar system to the Pleiades and 'x' will only equal _failure_ every time."

"Right, cuz we all need to know the trajectory of a comet to rescue a captured Blue."

"You -!"

"Guys!" Mikaela yelled, cutting the pair off. "What are we going to do? And how can we help?" Beside her, Mrs. Witwicky nodded, her eyes fiery.

The soldiers quieted and the younger bots' attention was soon trained in Sarge, who sat with his engine purring thoughtfully.

"What time is it? Earth time?" he asked.

"0412, sir!" Simhack said before anyone else could.

"Dawn's comin' soon then. Perfect. While we got the advantage of night, Donut and Simhack will sneak in through the back door…"

"_Ooooh_!" Donut interjected quietly, as if he'd just heard the opening line to a good ghost story. "I _like_ sneaking! Can we crawl through the vents? And, like, put super secret spy cams in really important rooms and listen in on super secret Decepticon conversations and gossip? Please?"

"Uh... no, Donut. But I like your motivation!"

Simhack seemed to wilt on his axles.

"_Uh oh! _Looks like your place as Second in Command and Biggest Brown Nose of Red Team is in _jeopardy_, Simhack!" the orange Jeep gasped mockingly.

Simhack hissed in response, "I _refuse_ to be demoted! I'll show him what real super secret spies do! And _then_ we'll see what Sarge says!"

Gruffwheel just fixed him with a deadpan glare. "Dude? You have some serious issues. You can't be his favorite _all_ the time."

"_Yes I can_!"

Sarge either didn't hear the pair, or he was ignoring them, and he kept going with his plan. "You'll go in and scout out the Autobot's position, as well as his condition. Maintain radio silence at all times. Once you've found 'im, disable the alarms to the front door. They're secluded, but I don't doubt they have a security system."

"Okie dokie, Sarge!"

"And us?" Ron asked quickly, pointing to his group.

" You'll need to be hidden and you'd better keep those rats quiet. If you have any reason you need to run, leave 'em behind and haul ass."

Judy gasped angrily at the suggestion. " I'm not leavin' my dogs behind! They're a part of my family, mister!"

"Judy," Ron said, patting her shoulder.

Sarge continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "If any of you have any Cybertronian technical or medical skills, now would be the time to get them ready." He sounded doubtful they did, but Mikaela's mouth became a focused slash and Maggie flexed her fingers. "Donut, once you've got that done, I'll need you to set up a jamming signal with the thingamajig I gave you back on Tartus Vega 9. That way, they won't be able to radio for reinforcements!"

"Reinforcements?" Gruffwheel asked, head perking up in alarm. "Why would they need reinforcements?"

"Because the moment Donut jams their ability to radio command, we're gonna charge in and _kick some serious ASS_! Get your 'war paint' on, Gruffwheel, you're decoy!"

Donut hollered and Simhack cheered as Judy whooped and pumped a fist into her husband's arm, looking like a rabid soccer mom. Mikaela and Maggie's faces were determined, and even the dogs looked excited.

But all Gruffwheel had to say was, "_Agggh…_crap."

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**A/N #2:** _Wow, shortest Author's Notes ever for me._ xD


	9. Chpt 9: The Back Door

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Transformers, nor Red vs. Blue or Halo. That's Hasbro, Rooster Teeth, and Bungie/Microsoft/XBOX/whatever respectively. I'm only borrowing the characters to play with them in an entirely fanon setting._

**A/N:** _No. This fic isn't dead, what are you talking about?_

_Here's a long overdue update for ya. Like I said, I have more chapters outlined, but I haven't had time to write, really. I blame my recent inspiration on the new season of RvB, my reviewers, and Beast Wars: Transformers. :D_

_At the bottom of this are A/Ns that clear up a few things from previous chapters that I noticed while rereading them! I'd like to make a few corrections, but before I go back to edit, I summarized the changes below._

_PS - The Australian Decepticon...sounds like Bruce from Finding Nemo. xD_

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The slim pink form of Donut's Audi alt mode paused at the end of a tunnel, which opened up into a small alcove. Beyond this point, the walls vaulted to form the ceiling of a bigger tunnel.

"You see anything?" Simhack asked from behind him. He only whispered because they didn't know if the Cons would detect their radio signals should they speak privately.

"Not yet."

The scout pulled out into the tunnel, his scanners inspecting every inch around him for a sign of cameras or alarms or anything that would give them away. He was also looking for rooms, or hiding places, because the tunnel's rugged walls offered no protection against being spotted. So far, however, the place was quiet. Except for the couple times the pair had gotten lost, there'd been no encounters. It was almost boring.

To liven up the situation, the rookie started to hum the beginnings of a personal spy theme, but Simhack opened his passenger door and hit him.

"Shut up! You'll give us away!" he hissed, panicked and straining to hear the angry advance of a bloodthirsty enemy. Nothing happened, though.

"Shh! I know what I'm doing!" Donut hissed right back, but he kept his silence afterward.

The pair slithered on ahead, covering about a half mile of tunnel little by little. The way probably would have been faster for bots who'd been professionally trained to do this sort of thing, but neither had the official skills – one was still learning to be a warrior instead of a scientist, and the other was still a sparkling. But they were good enough to pass Sarge's favorite war exercises with crudely made silver medals, and slipped along the passage with relative ease despite these limitations.

During their journey so far, they'd come across an intersection of multiple pathways, which made them wonder how extensive the system was. With no doors or rooms or even security to speak of, the bots wondered if this was really a Con hideout or a mining facility instead. It was hard to tell, as the markings on the walls could have been made by large human tools, or Decepticon drills (according to Simhack). But rather than follow these other paths, like they'd tried earlier in their trek, they stuck on the straight one, which seemed to be leading in the right direction.

Eventually, the tunnel became even bigger and they heard the unmistakable sound of conversation. The bots speaking sounded like they were coming from inside one of the six chambers that lined the walls ahead.

"Voices," Donut whispered, his tires almost squealing as he halted.

Simhack stopped just short of running into the younger mech's bumper and listened.

"I hear them," he said, his voice small. His mind supplied visions of the size of the footprints they'd looked at earlier and suddenly he found himself afraid. "We should probably transform while we're far enough away to not be heard."

"Gotcha!"

If the humans had been around to see, they might have thought that a slow transformation was more unnerving than a quick one just because it looked weird, like an explosion in slow motion. Honestly, for the bots it was also more _difficult_, considering the momentum of each piece being rearranged usually kept a bot upright and helped them stand when they were finished. To be stealthy, they had to sacrifice this help, and struggled to keep themselves from rolling around all over the place. Soon, though with some trouble, they were finally in primary mode and they plastered against the wall as the sound of light footsteps reached them. There was the wishing sound of a door and a looming shadow filled the hall, framed by a dim yellow light, a hundred yards from their position. Blue and red optics exchanged a worried look.

"Never saw me comin'!" a booming voice laughed from inside the room, as if finishing up a story. It had an accent which sounded Australian. "Bam! Right in the aft!"

The shadow sank, as if its owner sat down, before disappearing from sight. Donut and Simhack heaved a relieved sigh – it seemed they were safe for now. With a few silent signals, the pair carefully made their way forward. Just beyond the open doorway was a cathedral-like cavern that seemed to be used as a storage facility and that's where they'd have a better time hiding and gathering info.

"Had time to scan a tank, though, didn't it?" another Decepticon's voice replied. It was the jesting voice of a spectator who liked the show and wanted more. "Where'd it find one, anyway?"

"Aghh, some dank little army base to the south. Flew right over the thing in the dead of night and crashed somewhere in the 'ills, she did. Musta scanned a selection on the way down. Some human found 'er first, but it scrambled before I reached the clearing. Gave 'im a good scare, I did."

"You left it alive?" a rumbling voice spoke, different from the second. He sounded smaller than the previous two, but his voice was deeper, and he seemed to be moving around.

"Yeh. I was more concerned about turning in our little Autobot infiltrator than trackin' down a tiny man, though. Brought the sheila straight 'ere… Pft, slagger. Ran right into me on the way through the atmosphere and was probably gonna wreak havoc on our energon shipments if I left 'er in one piece when I got 'er. I wasn't gonna have that!"

The Cons had installed mechanized doors in this region of the tunnel system, probably on the most important rooms. But the sneaking pair had no time to look around. The only door that was open anyway was the one leading to the room the Cons were currently sitting in. Lock-picking their way into another room would make too much noise and possibly set off alarms. Their only way was forward and they had to pass the door without getting caught.

Donut counted four Decepticons as he encountered the room, which looked like a rec room of some kind but way bigger than any he'd ever seen. Peeking in, he saw that everything was scaled to suit the giant mech whose back faced the hall, including the hover-seats the other two were sitting on. The giant was most likely the one who left footprints near the crash site, although seeing him in person Donut couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. He'd seen Cons before, but no one _this_ tall. The mech looked like a chopper of some sort, his black blades lying down his back and his dull brown and grey paintjob hard to see in the low light they were using. The two sitting didn't look dangerous, one of them engaged in listening and the other brooding over something that looked an awful lot like a cube of brightly colored fuel. Lastly, there was a fourth bot walking around attempting to fix what looked like an energon dispenser that sat on the back wall.

Simhack poked one of the pink scout's doors to encourage him to move, and Donut complied, making it across the doorway unseen by leaping and rolling forward. Not a sound was made but the move did cause Simhack's hands to fly around in panic, warning him to shut up in sign language. When the pale Autobot noticed, he simply shrugged and bounded his way into the main cavern. The maroon soldier made to follow.

As Simhack made it past the door, however, it occurred to him that the story the flier inside was telling was about how he'd captured the Blue. It made perfect sense and fit the evidence left at the clearing – the footsteps, the tire tracks, the trace mech fluid trail. The Blue Team member should be around here somewhere, probably held in a makeshift brig.

It also struck him that the mech had said 'energon shipments.' Were the Decepticons mining for energon? Was that was this cave system was for? It had taken Donut and him a good hour to traverse the tunnels without tripping security (although, there didn't seem to be any security), and during the journey, they'd gotten lost twice. If these were mines and not a horribly intricate base, then the many tunnels that seemed to spiral downward forever made a whole lot more sense - although _how_ they were getting_ energon_ out of the planet was a mystery to him. He froze, listening for any more clues.

There was a panging sound as the cyclocraft slapped the shoulder of a smaller mech, the third that had so far moodily kept to himself.

"Anyway, End of story, until I get 'er to Megatron. Oh, he'll be pleased. Megatron likes makin' examples of those pests, so we'll give 'im an example, yeah?"

There was the sound of general enthusiastic agreement at the mention of a reward, and the chopper continued.

"…Speakin' o' that, I bet I haven't told you 'bout the time I rescued that lost platoon on Hearth Six."

"Oh! Tell it!" one of the voices spoke, the lighter one. The deeper voice consented somewhat reluctantly. The third Con kept his silence, but the brash chopper launched into a story of some daring heroics and the subsequent 'rewards' he received from Command as a result.

Simhack doubted he'd ever received anything he was saying he'd gotten, seeing as energon was nearly nonexistent and anything like credits or trade material was almost worthless. The only thing that sounded plausible was the brand new cannon modifications he said he sported, evidence of which was found in the forest.

The ex-Con shook his head of the conversation, saving only the important bits, made his way into the large cavern as soon as it was obvious the Blue's tale was over.

First, he noticed the markings on the walls, which looked like they'd been carved with the blades of a skilled miner class Decepticon. He'd had a tough time telling if the cave system was manmade or not before, but now he knew the truth as he was faced with the smooth lines and intrinsic patterning only a Cybertronian drill bit would make. Or, at least, that's what Simhack thought, considering the sudden difference between the walls here and the rest of the place. He didn't know much about mining, but he could use common sense. Perhaps the Decepticons here had simply made a base by drilling into a preexisting mine and then used the tunnels to carry out operations.

Said operations were, as far as Simhack knew, mining for Cybertronian fuel. The thought seemed ludicrous, seeing as planet-side raw energon deposits were incredibly rare. However, Sarge had pointed out earlier that no one on the List lived in Iowa, and it was a location that was quite out of the way for someone trying to capture the Witwicky child at his school over in Pennsylvania. This lead the logic-inclined soldier to hypothesize that the Decepticons had far more planned than just taking hostages and killing Autobots during their invasion. If they were mining for energon, then they had reason to _believe_ that the Earth possessed that precious source of energy somewhere in its crust. They would not expend energy on a useless endeavor.

For a moment, he wondered if the base had a terminal where he could access delivery records on these 'energon shipments' and anything else the Cons were doing here. He'd really like to know what they were planning, seeing as updates from the Con frequencies were not forthcoming, and it was getting increasingly fishier that this place didn't have a security system.

The main chamber was indeed a storage facility, towers of metallic pods that functioned as Decepticon built crates stacked nearly to the ceiling in some places. Most crates were closed, but a few stood open with what looked like uncharged weapons and equipment. Beyond the stacks was the wide-mouth entrance he and Donut had spotted outside. The frail white wooden house that had been abandoned years ago could be seen where he was standing. Why the supplies weren't protected in a secure facility underground instead of up where anyone could walk in and take them didn't quite make sense. But, then, low ranking Decepticons frequently took the easy way out if they thought they wouldn't get caught by more meticulous higher ups. Keeping supplies right next to the main entrance made loading shipments and take-off easy. Did they think they needed zero security because no one was supposed to know these mines existed? The lack of alarms or traps was strange in itself, but if these bots were under the assumption that this place had gone completely undetected, and they were willing to scatter these supplies and possibly the 'energon shipments' willy nilly like this, then he supposed it made a lazy Decepticon sorta sense. The dark red gunner passively recognized that this 'operation' was exactly the sort Gruffwheel would endorse, the lazy ass. He knew that should someone from Decepticon High Command come down here and find one of their top secret mining facilities in such messy condition, heads would be rolling.

Simhack suddenly relaxed, the mission becoming clear to him. His team had the element of surprise. No one here knew Donut and he had sneaked in, leaving them free to raid the place as they pleased as long as no one walked in on them. Because of the rigid No Talking rule on the Cybertronian airwaves, no one on the outside would know this place was doomed either. The extremely rural location of the place would play a part as well, seeing as almost no humans lived close enough to investigate or hear the sounds of battle. He felt satisfaction settle over him. They were safe, and those heads would be rolling soon anyway once Sarge was through with them.

The mech slinked forward, intent on looking through the crates before what would surely be a deadly battle. Still intent on putting the rookie in his place, he was sure that getting info from the crates would again put him in good standing with his superior officer. Not that he wasn't already the favorite, but there was nothing wrong with ensuring his future as leader of the team.

_"Pssst! Simhack!" _

The lanky Con spun in alarm, having been caught up in his own thoughts. He spotted the rose colored shaped of Donut in the very back of the chamber crouching next to a big lump of twisted metal.

"What is it?" he whisper-yelled back.

Donut just waved him over with nervous hands. The Lincoln left the crates to investigate with a sigh, disappointed to be pulled away from what could be valuable intel. However, what the sparkling said next took him by surprise.

"I think it's the Blue!"

"What!"

Simhack's sharp, angular face turned towards the lump. With a second glance, it wasn't so much a pile of scrap as it was a ripped and mauled body. He shuddered as he stared at a set of claw marks that tore into the treads of the offline bot.

The pink rookie's tone became concerned. "He's hurt pretty bad, Simhack. Take a look. You're better at this stuff than I am... Do you think they've reported possible Autobot invaders yet?"

They traded places and the maroon science officer did a quick scan while looking over the injuries through his visor. He made sure to keep his voice low.

"I don't think so. They wouldn't want to report anything over the airwaves right now, so they were probably keeping him for later. I think they were going to trade the Blue in for credit with Megatron."

"_Repulsive_," the small car grimaced with distaste. He pointed to the damaged Autobot, his face changing back to concern. "Well? Is this who I think it is?"

The ex-Decepticon found the bot's Autobot symbol under a layer of dirt. It was displayed in sky blue over a slightly darker blue hawk-like creature. The design was the Blue's version of the Autobot sigil. He sighed.

"I think it is...and judging by the size, I'd say it's the Blue's tank."

_"Uh, oh." _

The tank was perhaps the most intimidating Blue there was. She was tall, wide, and packed artillery that made even Sarge wince. Unusual for her breed, she possessed a military alt mode, with a natural inclination for destruction. She was Decepticon programming with Autobot mentality, and sometimes her morals were called into question (there was one time she blew up her own team leader, and she didn't seem to feel too bad about it). But she wasn't unreasonable and the few times Simhack had found himself in alliance with her over the years, for one reason or another, she could be helpful and valuable in a conflict. She drove a hard bargain when she wanted to and was a dangerous adversary on the field for her sheer firepower. That deserved respect. But now… It was hard to tell if she'd lost the fight with the chopper because her skills had gotten rusty or because the flier was more powerful than she was.

The rookie looked rightfully worried. "We could sure use her help, I bet. Can you patch her up?"

"Did you _not_ hear what that 'copter guy was _talking_ about?" The other snapped. "The Blue ran into him on the way down and totally blew her cover. They must have had a firefight but he got a good shot in…If she's built like the Decepticon tanking classes, this area here is right near her spark chamber and CPU. Tanks are really hard to kill because their brains are inside their bodies, but she must have suffered some serious damage when she hit the ground - the equivalent of falling on her head, at _least_. At some point, she must have shut down, but I can't tell if that did any good…" He frowned and assessed the damage again.

The turret was twisted sideways, the hull was covered in deep dents, and there was a gaping hole in the back where the engine had been blasted clean through. But that wasn't the worst part. He sighed, distressed about what he was about to say. He grew hesitant.

"Frag. Okay, I'm not a medic. All I can do is infer what's wrong based on what I've observed and what little I_ do_ know about bot anatomy... But Donut? I'm doing a scan here and…Primus, she's got some serious damage to her neural processor. Possibly_ permanent_ damage. We've got to be _careful_ when we move her."

"She's brain damaged?" Donut's optics were displayed at maximum width.

"Yeah, kinda. I dunno how much, and I'm not qualified to even attempt to fix this…" he trailed off uncertainly. Sarge was the only one of the team who could do it, and he had questionable medical practices…

"I wonder if the other Blues know?" the Audi pondered.

Simhack shook his head. "I'm not sure. But we need to get moving. We need to find the security room, if there even is one. It could be anywhere in this place but I bet its nearby –"

"Oh! I know where it is! Follow me! It's not much, but I think it's what we're looking for. You won't _believe_ what they've got underground!"

As if he hadn't just heard devastating news about the Blue's health, the scout turned and jogged eagerly down a seemingly random tunnel that gave no indication of whether it actually held the hub of all systems in the base or not. Simhack followed with a twinge of annoyance at the younger's apparent knowledge and his gaze drifted to the crates again. Donut just kept showing him up! First the secret entrance, now he'd scouted every chamber in the vicinity and discovered the Cons' mysterious operations in the time it took him to walk down a hallway! And, knowing Donut, he probably already had the jamming device primed and ready to plant – he was just innocently awaiting an order from his elder teammate to set it down. If Simhack was going to one up Donut on this mission, he'd need something good to report to Sarge and now was the time to get it.

On second thought, however… He glanced at the bleeding lump of an Autobot, a powerful foe turned to scrap that was barely alive, possibly damaged forever, and his ambition was immediately dampened. There were much more important things to do right now. He'd get his chance.

"Ugh…I'll just have to prove myself _later_," he half-snarled aloud with reluctance.

As he turned, he made sure the coast was clear and the hall empty, and then he hurried after the rookie.

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Gruffwheel's 'war paint' turned out to be a bulls eye pattern on the mech's chest plates and back. He wouldn't have drawn it on himself but Sarge threatened something in Cybertronian the humans couldn't understand and the orange bot complied by doing some mental magic on his paintjob. It was only one of the 'highlights' of the early morning round of arguments but soon the group had split and gone their separate ways. Half the 'Autobot' team had gone in, and the other half was waiting outside.

The scene was an empty farm lot, the buildings still intact, sitting on the edge of a hillside field of some crop that had been overgrown with weeds and tall grass. There were no chickens in the coop, or horses in the stables, and the dull green shutters of the house were crooked and cracked. At the end of a wide dirt road that cut right through the establishment sat two piles of rock and a yawning cave that crouched in the darkness of pre-dawn like a monster.

"Cons built that," Sarge stated with confidence, the CXT sitting just out of sight in the woods. He was parked in the middle of a dried up river bed, the mossy banks making a perfectly formed trench for the commander to hide in. But he remained in alt mode, the humans lined up right next to him trying to see what he saw. Slowly, _ever so_ slowly, the sky was turning gray with morning.

"Are you sure?" Judy asked in a whisper as she squinted. She assumed he meant the tunnel that she couldn't really see at the moment. It was too dark for human eyes, still. All she could see was black on black in the distance.

"Yep. The width and height of that opening, plus the cut of the rocks around it, suggests Cybertronian drill equipment," the truck explained, his sight zooming in on the rocks for a long distance visual scan. "Either a large drone or a miner. Let's hope if it's a miner, he's not still around. Mining equipment on the battle field does a real number on the enemy. I've seen some truly destructive strategies that make use of them! _Inspirational_!"

"Not when we're on the spirally spinny end…" Gruffwheel whimpered, crouching in robot mode just behind the humans. Luckily, the makeshift trench was deep enough that he could remain in primary mode without being seen. "Hey, Sarge? Remember that house with the elderly couple in it a couple hours from here? The ones with the Ford we stole?" He pointed to the white and blue pickup that now stood parked in the ravine with them. Mikaela sat in the driver's seat, both dogs inside and quiet.

"Yeah…" Sarge replied, his cautious voice indicating he had some inkling of what the orange Autobot was about to pull.

"Shouldn't the humans have stayed with the old timers? They'd be safer there. We should take them back. _I'll_ take them. And I'll stand _guard_!"

"I don't think so!" Judy piped before Sarge could deliver a retort. She hit Gruffwheel in the knee with a handkerchief before wiping her face of chilly morning dew. "We're stayin' right here!"

"_Especially_ after _stealing_ their only car," Maggie agreed softly, feeling incredibly guilty. There'd been a huge American flag outside the small wooden cottage, and a hand carved POW MIA memorial statue in the garden. Every possible American patriot memorabilia she could think of had been piled on their front lawn as decoration, and a veteran's plaque had been tacked onto their mailbox. So not only had the group stolen the sole transportation two old people had, but they'd stolen from war veterans who might have helped them out if they'd been told their country and home planet were in danger.

Then again, considering the whole alien thing and the super top secret nature of all knowledge related _to_ the alien thing, the elderly couple probably wouldn't have believed them.

Oh, well. They'd decided they needed the truck when Gruffwheel and Sarge had realized they couldn't convince the humans to stay anywhere hidden. To the small organics, being alone out in the cold dark woods without a light and armed only with jackets as defense meant possible death, no Decepticons involved. They were also determined to come along and help somehow. (Sarge just did not understand this suicidal altruism.) But the bots were planning to go into battle, and the humans needed to have some sort of protection, at least a way out. So after an extensive argument, the group agreed that the humans would get a vehicle they'd stay in and stand watch just outside the intended 'arena.' Should things get hairy, the humans were to turn the truck around and vamoose south to somewhere remote.

The current plan was in effect for now, though. They waited for their spies to break radio silence to begin the assault. Then the humans would pop into the Ford while the Autobot (and Decepticon commander) ran in to kick Con rear. Then if the bots for some highly unlikely reason needed the humans' help, travelling over the hundred yards of empty farmland to the cave wouldn't be a problem (This part of the plan was to put in to appease the humans, as Sarge thought they were a useless liability on the battle field).

Two hours passed in relative quiet.

Ron had eventually needed to pee as badly as the dogs did and had made a trip into the bushes an hour ago hoping the small canines would keep their muzzles shut. Judy took the time to touch up her make up (She insisted that if she was going to kick ass, she'd do it looking pretty, dammit). Maggie had, at some point, climbed some old roots so she could keep her eyes on the farm and the surrounding forest, while Mikaela had gotten tired of sitting in the truck and joined everyone else in the cool morning air. Sarge hadn't said a word in that time, except to tell the humans to wake Gruffwheel from his noisy napping three or so times.

The stars were gone and the clouds were slightly pink by the time anyone felt the compulsion to speak and when they did, it was with a tense air of impatience.

"Where_ are_ they? Shouldn't they have done their thing by now?" Ron said impatiently, poking his head over the river bank while trying not to dislodge Maggie from her perch.

"Not sure," Sarge answered thoughtfully. "Depends on how intricate the tunnels are, and the Cons inside. Our bots might have been captured and are currently bein' tortured for information -"

The earthlings all shot him a dismayed look. Sarge continued, unaffected.

"- or they're fine and just takin' longer than we thought they would. They ain't exactly Spec Ops super spies, you know."

Gruffwheel gave a longwinded sigh, his fear having quickly waned in light of his increasing boredom, and settled back on his haunches while blinking wearily. If they were taking their sweet time, there was no need to waste his energy being afraid. "Hm…Well, they need to get it over with in there. I don't know how long I can stay awake at this rate. A nap sounds really nice."

"You've already _taken_ a nap," Mikaela pointed out a little snippishly. His show of sloth was both disheartening and annoying when everyone else was ready to spring into action.

"I'm due for _another _one," Gruffwheel replied in a childishly mocking imitation of her tone.

Sarge growled, "_Can it_, garbage muncher. No breaks, no naps. Wake up! As decoy, you need to be ready to move at a moment's notice!"

The Liberty did the robot equivalent of rolling his eyes, and rubbed at his bright red bullseye with his fingertips. It looked suspiciously like he was pouting.

"Hey, I have a question," Ron piped up from his position on a rotten log. His hands were holding into the clay along the lip of the ridge, his head just high enough to see the barnyard in the distance. "If your rival squad is called the Blues, what are you guys called?"

"Reds," Sarge answered simply, like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

"We're Red Team, they're Blue Team," Gruffwheel elaborated somewhat needlessly. He brought forward an arm, baring a previously unseen symbol that was scuffed and hidden in his alt mode's intricate 'tattoo'. It was dull red, almost brown from dirt and neglect, an Autobot symbol superimposed over an outline of a diamond and a dark cobra-like creature. Maggie's searching blue eyes moved to Sarge, but his sigil wasn't visible.

"So, you're like a subfaction?" Ron pressed, raising a brow. "Our militaries split into color teams sometimes for, like, exercises or whatever. Is that the case here?"

There was a pause in which Gruffwheel looked to the taciturn form of Sarge. This questioning had dangerous 'prying' potential that the Jeep wasn't sure he was supposed to supply answers to. However, the Decepticon CO wasn't forthcoming with what seemed to be harmless answers, so he went ahead and said, "Well…While the _main_ part of the war migrated over here, there are plenty of bots still scattered across the galaxy in lotsa small fighting groups of their own…"

All eyes were on him and he clammed up for a moment, but he went on, knowing that telling half truths was his best option at the moment. Before he continued, he wondered briefly how the humans would react if they saw Sarge in battle, and then it occurred to him that maybe his hide-the-humans-at-the-old-people's-house wasn't such a bad tactical decision after all. Somewhere in his polyalloy gut he felt something twist and he shifted on his laurels.

"…Sooo, while we were fighting our own war in the outer reaches of space, we called ourselves Reds and the other guys called themselves Blues. There's probably, like, Greens and Yellows out there, too, or something…Fighting with each other…and also against the, uh, common enemy and stuff," he finished awkwardly.

His answers must have seemed good enough, and three pairs of eyes looked away with the satisfied light of having gained more knowledge on their strange guardians. The only problem was that one pair, belonging to Maggie, narrowed thoughtfully before they turned away, and the carrot hued Liberty's gut twisted further.

He'd had an inkling that it would be her or the brunette to figure it out. They were the crack whip observant types. Madsen, in his own observations, had been the one to pick up on the subtle slip ups his teammates had given over the past twenty four hours of their disunion with the Autobots. No one had meant to intentionally give their secret away, but it was hard remembering to not mention that their leader and second were Cons when such a fact had been public for eons. Red Team had never hidden the fact as they fought in the boondocks of space with another team of crazy hooligans – Blue Team knew it, Sarge proudly mentioned it, and any visitors to their private conflict quickly found out. Being told to keep it a secret for a change was a huge effort, and since picking up their four wards it just got harder. The humans were intelligent beings for all their gross organic squishiness, and it seemed to him that the ruse was about to be discovered. There would be some major explaining to do soon.

Gruffwheel was curious to know if Sarge had already thought of this. Either he hadn't and he was about to transform and rush headlong into battle displaying his mighty Decepticon physique, or he had and he'd already decided that the humans were going to find out the hard way.

Before he could ask, his radio crackled out loud. The humans had asked him to keep it open so they could hear the cue, seeing as Sarge insisted on keeping his cabin to himself and now the sound of their teammate's voice filled the ravine.

"_Simhack to Sarge. Jamming signal in place. Security is nonexistent on the upper floors, but the lowest part of the mines are where the main operation is taking place. It's heavily guarded down there by automatic features, but I'll fill you in later; it's irrelevant to our current strategy. We counted five Decepticons - the one managing the security room is already dead, the other four are in a nearby rec room, one of which is the Giant from the clearing. There are two miners underground but they won't hear a thing. The Blue has been found injured and in need of medical attention. She's ready for transport."_

"_Excellent work, you two," _Sarge replied, sounding pleased. He was curious what operations were being done but he'd find out soon enough. He couldn't _wait_ to see the Cons faces when they found him kicking in their door._ "Do we have your mark - ?_"

"_Oh, and the main entrance is a storage facility that might be holding explosives. Be careful not to trip – other than that, you have my mark. We're ready to go!" _

The throaty sound of Sarge's engine rumbled almost lustfully and it shook the sleeping birds out of the surrounding trees. The Jeep shrank back – Sarge was a _little_ scary when it came to a fight he was sure he'd win. And it came with extra explosions this time, too.

"Gruffwheel, transform and stay on my tail," the scarlet truck barked. "We're goin' in!"

"I have a bad feeling about this…" the orange mech lamented as he did as ordered.

"You four, get in the Ford and take my place over here." Following this direction, the humans moved in sync to leap into the truck. After checking all belongings were inside and both dogs were present, Maggie and Ron leaped into the bed of the truck with the luggage. "Keep your radio tuned to 98.1 AM, that'll be where I can reach ya. When I give the all clear, you come out. If I tell ya to scram, get the Pit outta here. Otherwise, you keep yourselves _invisible_."

"You got it!" Mrs. Witwicky agreed with determination. She closed the driver's door and clutched the wheel in both hands. Mikaela, next to her, somehow looked more frightened of a rampaging Judy in the driver's seat than possible capture by Decepticons.

For a moment, it was surprising, to both bots present, how _calm_ she and her ilk were given the circumstances despite their obvious trepidation, but if they knew the_ extent_ of their up close and personal involvement with the Autobots and their conflict, the Reds might not be so taken aback.

Sarge's voice cut through the air like a gunshot. "Let's _roll out_, dirtbag!"

Clumps of dried silt flew everywhere as the sergeant tore out of the trench and onto the farm, racing forward with an ecstatic roaring of his engine. The Jeep followed at a more reserved pace, though he made sure to stick close to the larger warrior. As if battle against four Cons wasn't bad enough, it seemed Sarge didn't really plan out the whole 'reveal' very well. Gruffwheel very much doubted that the fight would stay inside the caves, and he was sure the humans would be watching. He only hoped they wouldn't do something stupid.

As the opening of the cave loomed closer, he felt the vibrations of a grenade going off through his tires and he knew the battle already started.

His gut just got tighter.

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**A/N: **_Uh ohs. Gruffwheel has picked up on some bad vibes. I don't think Sarge forgot to keep his Con-ness a secret, but I don't think he's making any more than a superficial effort to keep it under wraps at this point. We'll see what happens next soon!_

_Their sigils come from Red vs. Blue season 3 or 4. I recall the symbols for the teams being on their shoulders, the reds having a cobra on a diamond in magenta, and the blues having a splayed falcon in blue. These are easy to see in Episode 44, We Must Rebuild, although I don't remember them being there in later episodes. These symbols are the same as on their bases, I think. _

_I would like to take this moment to say "HIYA!" to my sister, who is reading my fic and enjoying it, too. :D HIIIIIIIIII BUDDY! :3_

_**IMPORTANT NOTE: **__I was rereading the first 5 or so chapters and noticed a few discrepancies. _

_First of all – spelling errors and format errors are in need of fixing, so I'll be going back some time to fix those. _

_Secondly, in the chapter "Sarge" I made Sarge seem like he doesn't know how to work with internet and software. The thing is that he knows how to use internet and such, but his specialty is more hardware based and some programming. He's not a hacker though. I made it sound like he's completely internet illiterate, but he's not. It's that human internet is alien to him, he's more comfortable with Cybertronian interfaces, and doing stuff like "surfing" it is more of a Simhack thing to do. _

_And thirdly, while Sarge, Simhack, Gruffwheel, and Donut were in space and during their early time on Earth, they have gathered enough info from the internet to conclude the following: A) the Autobots are on Earth, they know this from Prime's message, but because there's no info in the 'net, they rightfully assume the autobots are a secret from public society. B) Analyzing the poor cover story for the events at Egypt, the leftover footage of the world wide announcement of the Fallen's, and looking over pictures of suspiciously Cybertronian looking debris from the battle in Egypt, they rightfully assume a major battle happened not too long ago at the Pyramids. Sarge thinks it's a Decepticon weapon. _

_Other than all this, Sarge and his Team do not know the __details __of the first two movies. Just wanted to clear that up because the way I wrote Chapter "Sarge" it seemed like he knew about Egypt from the internet, but no. All they know is what's been revealed to them through the In Story dialogue I've written so far with the humans. I'll be editing those earlier chapters soon._


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